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Touch and haikus Touch Flesh meets touch like hydroplane on silk sensually, emphatically seducing ego and the id. Like wind caressing the budding tree, your feather stroke (the most unselfish) renews my faith in wordless lust and quiet love. Summer Rain - Thick, warm, parched rust in terminal driving rain, silt soft settles down. Porcelain haiku - With a quiet still the dripping kitchen faucet pauses patient foreplay. |
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