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All three
of us, laughing into our cheeks,
while Thanda held the pouch:
 white
cheddar in rat's cloth, ribbed
garlic.
Suddenly I was
mango under my blouse, the priestess
carrying the penis, papaya
oil in torn paper
blotting the merchant's nails:
the first
step
in the dance between my husband's
cleft beard and the opening florets
of the asparagus.
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