she was cutting wild jasmine
he tucked it away to remember
shoes tossed, linens rumpled
they marked their space without teeth
she was circling the bough waiting for heavy fruit to drop while he whispered to clouds to wash him clean
they answered signal fires with small gestures while they reimagined insect fables and song
candles soaked, light distant
they found a way to count seeds
he was pushing against wind
she twirled and felt her skin rubbed raw
The Word Rummager 
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