A Killing Froth

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Discovery

Sex was always second prize—

irresistible, addictive, worth dying for,

yet messy, fumbling, a minefield through which

safe routes were never certain—

delicious, foul, precious,

an evolutionary romp.

First prize was discovery—

those minutes, hours and days

of incessant surprise,

when her life unfolded like origami

and her every entrance was Christmas morning.