tamil men skinny-dipping junk jiggling.
she is invinsible garble till sun burns.
gobbling soursop is sensual dribbling.
wrinkled, winded, her kurta is worn torn,
but humidity softens limbs agile,
muggy mirror of sex or love or both
but really, just messy fruit more fragile.
upside-down squished juice face, his hurt she knows
the ache tattoo he left inner cervix.
she could only leave him gold strands in sheets
she hopes keep him awake at night with tricks,
entwine him inescapable prison braid.
his body is in the banana trees.
body percussion claps his clanging knees.
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