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Caught in the Draft of a Door Ajar
Mannequins peering out from a storage
bin, we slouch across from
the "No-Food" paper sign
that sags to a pulp though the message still shoulders
the glass door entrance. Incoming shoppers,
their shared orange
squirts juice. Our mannequin-custodial
grins bar us from the lips' sweet 'oh'.
Crowdsourcing emboldens shame, our French kisses hung
on tangy wind chimes breezes tongue.
Copyright ©
Barthwell Farmer
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