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Sep 2017
said:  poetry

derived of red signs lit on the broadway
calling out places to get a drink

maybe blood on a highway

or a stray cat fed by an old lady barely
able to walk

a skirt lifted  just in passing

a smile at you


a fluffy white cloud of smoke
as you exhale

that first hit

the tang on a tongue
on a tongue of a kiss

that welcome home
from your woman

an embrace by that outgoing
***, who does smell,

but is always seemingly happier
than you in your Lincoln

or just a good movie
how it makes you revisit

someplace
warm
coiled in your memory
wordvango
Written by
wordvango
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