Life With Horace

poetry & essays

more alive

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walking from
machine cooled dullness
into hot sunlight,
mid July high noon
even if I could
there is no avoiding
this cloak of
fecund summer air
settling on my skin,
the scald of
gentle lover’s fingers
prompt me to accept
their gift, and dance
in the heat of the day

Author: Life With Horace

poetry & essays

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