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poetry

Step Off A Waterfall

I love the strength of
your thighs; the clutch
of your hands
looking for purchase
on my biceps,
my wrists, my
forearms; slipping
off my shoulders
in spasmodic
inability to hold
onto the feeling
that makes you
jerk and gasp
and quiver.
Your coming undone
takes me with you
— pulls me as
cleanly over that
cliff as a step off
a waterfall

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About Quinn

In it but not of it. A reformed player, now watcher. Speaker of raw truths.

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Raison d’etre

"Raw," she said. "I want something primal. I want something bare and naked. I want you to give me this life raw, unbidden, unhidden, free, fair, and true. Can you do that? Can you do that for me?"

One may only try.

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