The Finest Destinations
Open the picture album now.
Clasped in fake gold with plastic ridges,
It is stunningly old, and yellowing;
An odorous time machine,
Filled with ancient heartbeats,
Frozen in the unstoppable hour,
Like grave stones in the snow.
Look at page one, leaning there,
The sixteen year old Mexican girl,
With the tanned, inward turning legs.
She dances with bare feet in...
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