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Salt Lick
We pulled the car
as close as we could
to the barbed wire fence,
spread a blanket,
switched off the light,
and were alone in the night
except for the forty head of cattle
who chewed their cud,
listened as we talked,
watched as we kissed,
collectively held their breath
as we touched,
made tentative efforts to do
what to cows came naturally
and could be done by them
in open field and broad daylight
while we fumbled in the dark;
and later, driving home,
windows down to cool off
in the honey-suckled air,
we imagined the cows
still with us, mooing,
coming closer, close enough
finally, to gather round us,
stand over us, smell
the salt and sin from our bodies, feel
the overwhelming temptation
to lick us clean.
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