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Kamille Corry-Tear in the Wind
Cornflower eyes are selfie-less.
My copper-toned hair, conspicuous.
My playful scarf binds my cares,
Softly flits about
My windblown countenance.
I lose myself in perspicacity,
Alluring and enigmatic,
Expressive but not yielding,
Meandering through past times.
Not tactless - the mirror is gold.
Indecent exposure is snapped,
But I enhance my craft
Against my will with the permanence
Of paint, setting my eyes on the brink,
A musing on the West Yorkshire Moors.
I am more than a Muir’s ghost,
I am a sumptuous recollection of Eve.
Copyright ©
Kim Rodrigues
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