Iowa
My heart lies in an Iowan corn field.
Where the summer heat is thick with juices.
Hidden from indecent themes I killed.
Shadowed by sweet corn which amuses.
The air I swallow when deeply hidden.
The sky my sea from which I drain myself.
Covered by shadows and words unwritten.
Filled with a warmth from a memories shelf.
So complete it is when most natural.
When fields surpass the tints of my eyes.
A place I can never go overall.
Where the sweetness was found. Where hearts lie.
Sweated through by age and indiscretion.
Glorified by presents and occasions.
Where the summer heat is thick with juices.
Hidden from indecent themes I killed.
Shadowed by sweet corn which amuses.
The air I swallow when deeply hidden.
The sky my sea from which I drain myself.
Covered by shadows and words unwritten.
Filled with a warmth from a memories shelf.
So complete it is when most natural.
When fields surpass the tints of my eyes.
A place I can never go overall.
Where the sweetness was found. Where hearts lie.
Sweated through by age and indiscretion.
Glorified by presents and occasions.
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