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Eros Thimbles Under the Moon of the Evening Grosbeak. Poem. Sage Sweetwater
clouds of incense sewn with threads of the Silver Cord, out of body nakedness stitch-by-niche drifting under the moon, luna parts the dark side of her thighs to let in some ethereal light, 'tis the passerine bird who scolds us out of the physical body into the astral body - the pol