The water gushing
from those black rocks looks hot.
The sky tastes green
with a lilac halo.
Her braid is loud against my fingertips.
She can smell my voice five kilometers away.
Her reply is only slightly salty
with a hint of ginger
till I awaken in the middle
of another fractured night.
Night & Day Poems of Amy Nash 
Sheesh. That poem makes such an impression it’s like taking the candy out of someone’s mouth and eating it. And not feeling bad about it.
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That’s a poem—what you just wrote.
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