In Front of the Avalon
Missing that
Sultry ****
Of stained coffee
and stale cigarettes.
We thought we were
French, and perhaps as
Close to rebelliousness
as the Midwest would Allow.
My eye make-up made
me Alive and a woman
Stronger than you
And could ever be.
With those candles
And cement blocks
you penetrated me
And I was alive.
Copyright © Ian D. Campbell | Year Posted 2013
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