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Remember
that morning
in the desert
when the sun
was a slice
of tangerine?
When we chewed
honeycombs,
our sunburned chins
dimpled and red
as cherries?
When, tipsy
on mimosas,
we wove
through the rosy
yellows of dawn
like mice
in a basket
of apricots?
When even
our teeth
were sweet?
Larry D. Thomas
Posted over on Larry D. Thomas Blog Site
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