Her Cheekbones, smooth as pebbles
Grasped tightly in his sexed up hand, sweating indelicately
Resembling that night the thoughts between the sheets were conceived
Weighing like soaked white carpets
Beneath flea market stands
She Is Beautiful, she is beautiful
Belladonna, noxious
Dusty eyes and wavy hair
Neruda book shoveled away somewhere deep
Inside her closet full of chewed up bones
Illumination, dying in...
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