Your winter hands
fresh from the cold
touching my ribs
like cold rain on
a hot tin roof
dripping their way
down my body
my earthquake thighs
and mushroom-cloud hips
eroding away the sins
of catastrophe.
A moment of fluidity
and soft
between cataclysmic calamities
of life, melting
our bodies of land
into one magnificent era,
during which our planets align
and every cell is a happy
citizen of our bodies...
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