it is no secret. blood disolves.
in the shade of fragile secrecy.
what is loved perspires. bittersweet.
our mouths need fruit. our mouths are fruits. themselves.
this is language where the breasts appear as breasts. a clearing in the forest.
and the forest appears as forest. bodies read and write this language.
a drop of saliva opens the book. half saliva half humus.
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