Fresh cow's milk over toasted rice,
A photograph of Zaragoza's high plain,
where your lungs filled with frost
as your legs tumbled sweet blood
up through your young heart,
a thick blue sky over a green spruce forest,
the dark songs of owls,
your lover's musk, fig, and coconut skin,
the masterpiece you wrote this time around
and the satchel that it came in.
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