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TheLove of a Woman - Peter Malakoff

The Love of a Woman

I take her head and


stroke her face


touching her gently


my hands belong to no one



I watch her


semblance soften



We come back


from the dead


of the unfeeling



I swoon with her eyes


falling backwards


onto our bed



We swell with the rocking


of ancient rhythms


that do not know





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