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Click herelove holds my head above water
floating me, a hand between blades
an olive arm below my legs
her feet are allowed to touch the bottom
to cradle and feed the growth all around
placed by passion
invited to contribute and play in the dirt
I stay back till she is half filthy
then join with joy and mud and hose
our watering can has holes
designed
to let enhancements to us flourish
This poem was selected from Lit's archive of over 39,500 poems for inclusion in today's Archival Review.<br>
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Love the images sp--from the watery buoyancy that keeps one from drowning to the narrator holding back while his lover sploshes through mud. :)