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I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. |
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. |
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day |
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps. |
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I hunger for your sleek laugh, |
your hands the color of a savage harvest, |
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails, |
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond. |
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I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body, |
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face, |
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes, |
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and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight, |
hunting for you, for your hot heart, |
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue. |
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