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Bodies are maps. You know that. I feel the bend of your strong knee. I rise with the birds on fire for yoga and writing. See you at coffee, I whisper. It will be hours before I see you again. In that time I see no one...just the people who live in my head.
Note: image of torn old map on a shed door. Vulture overhead when I took this image. Love.
Also by Tricia Louvar
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