IN THE GARDEN of loveand lust, if you may allow me for
this duality
or dichotomy, lies a woman half naked
her breasts protruded with her nipples
to the sun
her hands explore the grasses
caressing it for more dew
the chrysanthemums white as snow
bloom brushed by the soft summer winds
the grasses are lush with greens
beside a straw hat on the bench where
my woman is seated
under her feet is a dog with eight nipples
pregnant and tired
once there was a bitch, now sleeping
after devouring the joys of lust
in the fullness of love the dog rests
in peace with the world in the garden of love.
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