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white light at night
i hope there are
lightning bugs
in buff of low
that flicker like
heat lightning
at midnight
it would be right
if summer
was romance
as much as
it was humidity
just as
it is the heat
of your glance
not the moisture
in the air
that is the zing
of a poignant moment
like the excitement of
if
you would slide
your tanned fingers
along my waist
and started a physical proposal
like the crackle of ions
that weaves
the nuance of two
in the night
into tenderness
