By: Lisa Thurlow-Fox
Competition Year: 2012
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Though dark descended hours ago,
a multitude of tasks remain:
assignments, dishes, washing clothes
and other such necessities.

Fatigued, I eagerly collapse,
reciprocate my quilt's embrace
and scorn responsibilities.

An engine's dulcet tones resound
then fade, to leave a closer sound -
the tick of passing time for once
does not elude to zero hours.
And nearer still the in and out
of lazy breath as I regard
the privelege sensation holds.

In any other circumstance
a mouth not clean is odious.
Tonight the taste, a bodily
phenomenon,is worth
some special admiration.
My teeth remain a monument
to pasta eaten hours ago.

Enticed to open disused eyes
I fight temptation, briefly. Look
the blinds cast spines of light around -
the spines of dancing senses.
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