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Infancy
by Edith Kur
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In the whole experiencing world
she found her own toe.
A nub, a knob.
A promise --like a kiss--
of revelations to come.
As her mouth pulsed
with the exquisite wet joy,
with the her eyes, fingers, breath
--the whole pinhead world--
flew away, irrelevant.
First bliss in a bed.
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