Silhouette Hands
Her eyes laced up beautiful
mouth wired line delicate
blood pressed through ears
and sun cooked water burns
These skirts stabbed gray
Cold lack luster lump open
she's winter as the sky is tommorrow
too bright for fresh
wonder solid unturned bliss
her lips sure of their pale defeat
plump ajar need reeking
This body conqoured
the best dream I've ever had
Copyright © Victoria Blackburn | Year Posted 2006
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