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Click hereIn the evening
the land lies like an easy woman
recumbent, willing, open.
Mounds and valleys undulate
among furrows, crevices and rivers,
among forests and naked plains,
wide eyed, expectant, yielding.
The young man from the city
enters Elizabeth's house.
He tenderly nuzzles her breasts,
caresses her smooth thighs,
and curls his tongue inside her
tasting the rhythm of her sighs.
Later, he rises like the moon
and ejaculates dawn into her mouth -
spotting her soft face with
eerie shadows of half-light.
As morning breaks
the land is a beaten woman,
angry, suspicious, used hard.
Sharp rocks poke out of the ground
and the soil is dry to the touch
among deserts, mountains, salt flats
among windswept wastelands
and islands of scrub plants,
forbidding, cruel and lonely.
He whispers in Elizabeth's ear, and
smoothes a hand along her back.
She purrs at his touch like a cat
remembering beautiful lovers and
flowers shrouded in fine mists.
Time again retreats into irrelevance
and her blood begins to warm
and her pulse quickens.
Foxes stir to her musk,
hawks soar on her thermals,
seeds sprout and spread roots.
The land is a radiant woman
with hair like flowing water
and eyes like the sun's rays.