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Sep 2018
Brown hair
The rare type that cascades soft.
Perky chest,
Smile like a warm wave.
Little back pack and a purse too.
She’s on the move.

Tight jeans,
Fitted shirt,
But the kind of eyes,
You could make love to in the dirt.

Should have tried a line,
Instead I stepped out for a smoke.
Spying her from the frame,
Then up,
She strolls into frame.

She smiles at me.
“Hi,” she smiles.
She strolls.
“I’m disappointed you’re leaving.” I announce with strange authority.
“Do you work here?” She really wants to know.
“No.” I grin.
She smiles at me the smile of an excited dolphin,
Turns away,
And walks on.

I stare at her ***,
And wonder if there might be
A loving
All powerful
After all.
Gregory K Nelson
Written by
Gregory K Nelson  39/M/Connecticut
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