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Transposition (2 ratings) by Stephen W. Cote
I speak of tongues long since lost
Of supple breasts splashed in exotic woodruff
For the virgins sacrificed on primeval altars
Whose steps are drenched in prepubescent red
And the self-proclaimed deity heralding
From above the servant's sun
A gospel of reveled maxims
Of events that transpired against us
My lips smack with the sulfuric residue
Left behind by a Conquistador's musket
His kiss for her ravaged temple of body and land
She exuded somnolence and melancholy spirits
Her humor drained of its black bile
Sucking in the dusty air
She whispered a dry and porous prayer
Of events that transpired against us
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