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this sticky heat cornhead primed, the wheatsheaf tide laps cliffhigh in milky wet sunshine at the edge of field. laid under bramble hedge, i roll pert blackberries between my teeth project with my tongue & pop between your waiting lips. over walnutwood eyes you drop your lids loll fruit flesh & squeeze for release, suck juice, swallow pips. we kiss, join & rejoice in the field off the gulling sea, reverberate the low breeze the pumping thud of human blood, quiverheavy with salt & seed. our sweated sighs entwine with the bush branch & leaf, the final flicked wingbeats of blacksaffron bees prone on the sandy mud, each bleached with this sticky heat. 38 ...

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