In the shape of your movement
my tummy is stormed
by jingles
and foxtrots,
it leaps a ballet
as you punctuate
air
with glorious panache.
It always tries to run everywhere
when you
come into view;
all the tumbling roams
at the slight tour of your smile.
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 7:41 PM UTC
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