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Sands of Morocco By Micaela Cypher


Today I saw the sands of morocco come alive you lifted your hand and the wind blew wild your rough touch was gentled by that power caress, caress you whispered


In the last drops of light you lifted a sheaf of wheat, consume, consume you whispered


the blood red of the sun spoke of fire the salt of passion


Yesterday I watched sweetness walk away she was supple and heavy


like the round weight of a ripe pear


In the first rays of sun you stretched your naked beauty there were no shadows for you hope, hope you whispered


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