“Undulation” is such a poet’s word. No woman has ever said in a darkened bedroom as her man slips his Levis from his waist and steps lightly toward the bed, “My body is undulating. Ride me like a wave.”
It is also true that no recipe has ever read, “Add the pasta to the pot when the water begins to undulate.”
And nine in ten people don’t even know what the word means.
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