Checking Out: One's Own Soul
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"I just knew there was brain cell in there somewhere" . . . ; )
Listen to poem:
Rhapsodic impulses of skin suffused
Exulted passions rendering, disused
Intensely emotional of flushed amor
A mere filament lisp of a lustful gore
Susurration; within my own sad soul
Mellifluous lullabies 'till I, rest whole
Copyright © Indiana Shaw | Year Posted 2019
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