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Aug 2019
She speaks in clouds,

her curves drink lost
words.

Her dress entrances.

This marketplace so full
of colour,

many fragrances merge.

I watch her dance with
gypsy jazz tones.

Olive skin and dark hair.

She beckons me forth, to
a flaming beauty.

With her clouds I
merge.
Al
Written by
Al  M/UK
(M/UK)   
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