The autumn spiders are now wrapped in dew and silken graves
Early warmth will bite into summer peaches soon
Hopefully I will not be busy swallowing glass
Or tapping lightly on this wonderful earth
A simple touch at the collarbone, sweeping flight of limbs
When we first meet the ocean's lungs
Gladfully welcome dizzy salt air and arms,
waiting
The Magnolia trees will Bloom
when You come.
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