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Jan 2015
Like the swooned flamingo
Fall clumsily
into my arms, soft bird.
Against me gently,
Your sleeping flesh
would push
and I would succumb
to your shape,
trapped by the bulbous density
of our peace,
And I,
I would bow to you.
Erica
Written by
Erica  Eugene, OR
(Eugene, OR)   
542
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