By Misti Lake
Date: 27 January 2001

Song of a Sated Yoni

after our feast
my sated yoni contemplates
the origin of friction
the anatomy of ache
the texture of longing
and there are murmuring stars
above tingling trees
and a sage scented breeze that teases
the serpentine river into
pulsating play
and anything you say is right
as another balmy day
melts into night

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