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That Last Lust, In Exchange of A White

White, all fluiduous white, its palenxia
addumian and phalanx artifice
have the rhythms of your stance. Standing up
across the burn she covers plain seduction

with mystic air, a flesh her mouth stings
stings the mouth of my flesh, the teeth of my lips'
arc, of my ache, of my deny, the phalanx
lust: last time a break is written in
the writhe of blood on scarred flesh

and of my flesh, of my arc, only the color white
can colour its climax: to cirilo i tax the sex.

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