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Delicate twirling of words dangled over chanced meal,
the distant dervish heat of her,
temptingly
not close enough
to shorten the longing.

The sandy distance,
this salted weight of grey
from the marooned lips,
lost, forgotten
in the roar of another beach,
the tensions of another jungle,
unbroken by lust.
Therefore, lusted.

Distances unbreached
and innocence,
never regained.

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