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Sometimes the slant …

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Sometimes the slant of sunlight on the hills …

as here

the new light fingering its way

into a darkened chamber

into sleep

crisp morning licking

at the pillowcases and

the sheets to drive

us out

our bodies, calipers,

curled drowsily

toward one another

flame red

twin tulip petals tipped

in scarlet

in that refraction

our kisses multiple and

so inflected that

the sun comes rivening into

our plain souls

suffusing us.

—Linda Watanabe McFerrin

Accepting submissions: Hot Flashes 3: more sexy little stories & poems