Of Your Dwellings

'You shall not covet',
So go into her and be her husband;
Pleasure,
Measure,
Leisure,
Treasure,
Water from the well! !
But you shall not eat any blood in any of your dwellings.
Probe, robe, scope, cope, flop, troop;
Open the mouth of your cave for the muse of my love,
And like the abundant rain on the plants.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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