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Lucid: these dreams of searing sensations that cook, without scorching, our melded skin that is slick with want and need and is never satiated before I wake.

A graceful, tall, and yellow pleasant

surprise shifted with the wispy wind.

It waved hello as I walked on by

and waved goodbye at the end

of our wonderful first encounter.

Metal cool to touch is

heated by my sweaty palm,

lifted by my steady arm

that wavers,

recovers,

gradually lowers.