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What a mouth will do
Kiss
the impossible hope that love
will last. An end to looking
as if for one glove.
Swallow the sweet
lust of fruit—one way a body
can be pleased.
Tell others why.
Tell others nothing.
Feel the tongue and how
goodness
and mercy can flow
like a river from the north
or how it can rage as only rage can
and know there isn't much to say
after that.
Betsy Johnson-Miller
Posted over on Applehouse Poetry Workshop
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