Woven strings of pearly white
shy, unawakened, tender
lying supple on a dark bed,
a bed of woven wicker
cushioned with fronds,
moistened by dew…
Their sweet scent
that saturates
the cool mist of first light
clings sensuously
to my awakened skin
and elicits a moan of pleasure.
It came knocking,
behind closed eyes
and upon a deep breath,
this memory of strings,
strings that entangle my heart
and lead me back,
back to the paved streets
of my home,
the home of my heart.


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