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| Visions of The Wolf by � vision_wolfe Sound- Like cymbals crashed Against my mind's Eager eyes. I can hear you, Panting, breathless Hissing with need As my hands, Small and burning, Trace tribal tattoos On the taut graceful canvas Of your lean and Trembling body. Were those markings There before I stroked them Into being? --Kari Diabo August 2001 Vision Wolf, who hears the drums wherever she goes |