A Musa Oblectata: A Woman A Mused

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A jog

Sun-crisped words fall
To the rhythm of shoe-thumped pavement
Calloused hands that soften
Like the shining hairs that graze my arms and neck
Clench and tense, relax self-consciously
Percussive jolt of knees
Chased by laughing shivers
And the rushing pulse of deep-drawn breaths
The well-known beat of our bodies.





Epistula ad Musa
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