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Not sure, for once, whether
the act is sensuous
or sensual.
The scent of oil
in the room, her tangled
hair. And Peter, of course,
complaining. "The inner
life is with you always,"
I told him, "but
the body is
rare." Rare the oils summoned
to a woman's caress,
the tangled hair she brings
with her into the tomb.
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chrism
cooper
esteban
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