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icelandicblue
Poems
Nov 2014
She Was Bordeaux
She was Bordeaux;
full bodied with a dark
fruity scent, fermenting
more each day as
life pressed out
her sweet essence.
Her mouth, a worn out
label of words, never
deciphered , silenced
by ordinary men; she
had always been
their best kept secret.
The hourglass girl
keeping time
in measured gulps;
drop dead red
had always been her color.
Written by
icelandicblue
Boston, Ma.
(Boston, Ma.)
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