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SUMMER NIGHTS Late at night we lie the single sheet kicked back; recalling the events of the day while exchanging backrubs. Night air beginning to cool; frogs attempting to drown the locus with incessant crooning. Planning for the morrow anxieties melt; drifting in sleepy contentment or lingering entwined. The fan hums desires rest, satisfied; No ears left to hear all is tranquil.
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Dolores
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Revised: December 18, 2006