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#16
by Ann Pedone
We have survived the
Storm of falling
In love the smell
Of apple and lilies and
Brown sugar fresh
On your mouth and you
Half
Asleep there is
Something blooming in the
Sweet moss of your hips
Wet with patience and wild
Joy that is your body
Made new in love the last
Of night’s
Milky fingers I pull the sheets
Up to your shoulders
And dream
We are
Young again
Stars
Just a little before dusk
About the Author
Ann Pedone graduated from Bard College in 1992 with a degree in English Literature. She has a Master’s degree in Chinese Language and Literature from UC Berkeley. Ann’s work has recently appeared in, Neologism, Ornery Quarterly, Unbroken Journal, Alba, Riggwelter, Main Street Rag, Poet head, among others. She lives in the San Francisco Bay Area.
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