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****** widow

there you are, a quaint star

shining sewn in your clothes

nonplussed, some queried glare

on your face, with your shoes

matching ware, there you stare

into space, that dark place

surrounding like your hair

on supple cheeks, red, bare,

faintly covered in lace.

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Written by
i-w
Published
Nov 12, 2013
Lines·Words
9·44
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