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Taboo Sea
She enjoyed taboo discussions,
It was like being thrust
Into a surreal world
With a legal Lolita,
Alone in a secret garden
Of beautiful living things,
No touching, no picking,
Just awash in the sensations
Buzzing around,
At times as if Kundalini
Were passing a basket of
Crimson apples,
One
by one
To her to pass to me,
Some would say
Why be drawn that way,
But then,
Where would poetry be
If a poet didn’t swim
In the Taboo Sea.
Stephen Nesbitt ©
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