In my country,
there is a wilderness that
moans
under the fog
as it settles
in the valley
between intimacy
and
soft thighs.
there is a wilderness that
moans
under the fog
as it settles
in the valley
between intimacy
and
soft thighs.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again. -Sylvia Plath
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