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Shakespeare's Monkeys

Infinite Monkeys. Infinite Typewriters.

More in Jasmine's Poetry

Cognition In Repose

Thighs broke wrinkles
in the waves spraying
seafoam across his lips.

Water rolled smoothly on his
sinew in onyx jeweldrops;
melding together onto the sand.

Closing my eyes, I imagined
licking them would leave
behind a trail of salt.

Moondust spilled lightning
on the crests and I arched
my neck to receive his kiss.
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