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lumberjack

morning light fights to make its place among the branches
shy sunrays lick insecurely dew on the grass
breeze waking up
as he stomps through the woods

fallen leaves breaking the silence
absorbing the imprint of his boots
as she absorbs his most precious secret

he is coming home

looking for him through the window
an overdried teacup with a kitchen cloth
repetitive round motions, like a mantra
looking beyond the tree line

she is waiting

the lumberjack comes home
the door surrounding under his enormous arms
the fire crackles with desire
-but not as much as hers

between the bloated veins inside her thighs
he finds peace
under his huge body dripping with sweat
she finds war

and he wants more peace
and she wants more war

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