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All Through Tuscany

The afternoon outlined. The sunny strokes of a samurai blade on her body revealing things the eyes feign see. Tempted, wounded, the virgin parchment floats between her skin and satin cloak. Artist; afternoon, craving company draws her inside-out so innocently, on purpose leaves the yolk indwelling. The painter in the corner moans, he jealous of the afternoons artly sensual oration. Improving skin, bare olive tones of subtle pastel, the moment partly lost to the constellations.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2010




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Date: 7/29/2010 1:55:00 AM
Innocent,wounded,seducing,beautiful Images. .created by an artist of verse,Your poem is almost a painting with those olive tones,splashed in a delicate way,lovely!tmfvs C.C.
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Date: 7/28/2010 9:31:00 PM
You need to give once over to the rhyme scheme of the sonnet. I enjoyed fine images in the sonnet, Jim
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Date: 7/28/2010 7:37:00 PM
sounds like a dream vacation to me EXCEPT for the flaws,, enjoyed your poem,..p.d.
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things