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I am sitting here in a robe
Of patches of colour that make me think
Of parsley and mint
And the juice from a melon
The oils running from my head
Through my long anguished hair
To my forehead, my cheeks, my eyes
And to my shoulders
Where it stains me with the still-dream of you
Climbing honeycombs and ladders to be here
To converse with the shadows on my nocturnal breast