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Love in the Library
By Kirby Wright

Knee to ground, she begins
the innocent search

through the Dewey Decimals.
Her tan hands bruise me

without touching. Black jeans
say "Guess" in a triangular patch.

Is that foreplay for "yes?"
She stands full of glances.

She dark eyes me, lips parting,
body angling hourglass.

Her hips beg for wonder
as she saws me in half, quietly.

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Document last modified on: 02/17/2003

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