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6.8
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One wave falling forward meets another wave falling forward. Well-water, hand-hauled, mineral, cool, could be a kiss, or pastures fiery green after rain, before the grazers. The kiss -- like a shoal of fish whipped one way, another way, like the fever dreams of a million monkeys -- the kiss carry me -- closer than your carotid artery -- to you.
Thomas Lux
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Read poems about / on: kiss, fish, rain, green, water, dream, fishing
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