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One Thing

1


I had a thing
about sensation.


It was small, dedicated,
working its way in


to me.


I was reminded of a bee
burrowing 


into the smooth cone
of a flower,


how it wags its bottom
in the air—


funny.




2


I had a thing
about love.


Love was lying
nose to skin.


It was mutual agreement
to a node by node
release


of attention—


an operation
infinite in principle.

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