THE TEACHER IN EVENIN TEACHIN THE BREEZE

i am the woman
in golden sunbeams –
a make sweet
in romantic purrs.
i am ripe
in the depths of your poems.
you are a warrior
of great sensitivities
in the weight
you carry in your palms.
keep carvin into the swirls of life
to the world
in your hungers for venus.
cause in hot southern sands,
the fountains of desire
along the ocean front
wait in the breeze.

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