The Empty Canvas of Her Back (poem)

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On the empty canvas of her back,

I aimed to paint a sylvan, hilly tract,

But the sight and touch put paid to my thoughts,

There were sand dunes waiting to be explored,

The undulating landscape sent invites,

Promised oasis on the other side,

The sands shifted whenever she shrugged,

My horse burst forth with short strides,

How I wish there were camels in my stable,

I wouldn’t have sunk between her lows and highs.  


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