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Murmurations
she smiles in the shadows
of the dead end street
living her rag doll life
the only femme fatale
of our mannequin town
a midnight detective
going down the low road
a butterfly at the crime scene
alone in the evening breeze
her night talk full of
wallpaper poetry
her velvety voice
singing the drunken bird songs
her troubled mind
full of murmurations.
I’m so happy I could die
lifting her veil in the storm
so let’s dream a little.
Copyright ©
William Greco
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