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Sep 4
by the bustling west side
a vintage Rothko in the making!
as the setting red sun
smooches a shy, dark-tanzanite sky.

her succulent strawberry lips,
nowhere in sight.
there’s gotta be a portrait of this rose

the search now
ever since this bird has flown,
is for the missing piece of me,
which i keep scrupulously looking for
on every street

© 2021
poem inspired by a beautiful sunset on the west side of Manhattan that looked like  a painting from Rothko’s “color fields”.
Written by
Rama Krsna  56/M/NYC
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