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Echoes ~ by Audre Lorde wrote
...The flavour of midnight fruit tongue, calling your body through dark light, piercing the allure of safety, ripping the glitter of silence, around you. dazzle me with colour, and perhaps I won't notice, til after you're gone, your hot grain smell tattooed, into each new poem resonant, beyond escape I am listening, in that fine space, between desire and always, the grave stillness before choice, as my tongue unravels, in what pitch, will the scream hang unsung...
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