And She Lied There in Full Bloom

And she lied there in full bloom, body resting on the bank,
where I watched her from the bottom of trees,
eyes open and basket full of oranges
and she lied there on the sand,
the river stroking her hair with its visceral way.
Never touching, only receiving.
And as the river ripped through punished rock
and the malicious foam formed,
I observed, from afar of course, that it ran with her, through her.
Kissing her heels,
Tasting the swollen flesh from where she stood,
where she fell into the hallowed river.

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