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The Inner Thigh Of Desire
the tongue stuck...
on the inner thigh
of desire,
throbbing for the candle
lit by inspiration.
a dropp of sweat
falls from the knitted brow
of god speaking forth...
existence.
when nothing remains
but embers and ashes,
the heart cries for the plow
in the field of silence!
a hunger within,
much deeper, much sharper,
bellows one word...
beginning!
and darkness becomes light!
poem
by
Eric Cockrell
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