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Florietta Loreto 


A dimmable table lamp 

illuminates a corner,

Paints a frosted window pane;

Its cast shadows tantalise me.

I spread like a clementine halved,

Two Supremes detached—

But not torn apart.

I'm far better than

any peach or nectarine.

Pockets of sweat appease me.

The taste of limpid tears 

And sweet sycamore sap

Trickles down your skin

Like an eternal stream,

Glistening under a grapefruit moon. 

I trace the contours

Of your biceps like valleys.

I admire your beauty—

From afar.


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