Your dense lips smack the sax,
polar moon and homeward back
Your tapered fingers tear drop the notes
into well springs of spontaneity
It's the turquoise flow of commonality
that makes of our kind surviving folk
Man and woman,
we two intended
before we knew it
before attendance
In spite of ups and downs
consensual, reciprocal to border lines
improvisational we wane and wax
awhile longer...together
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