My words yearn
to wrap around
those warm bodies
breathing poetry
wandering in their beatnik gypsy mountain time
dancing in the citrine champagne universe
pouring daybreak stardust into hands
getting a buzz from the indigo vibrations
tickling the wild child turquoise flowers
blossoming from their hearts
opening arms
allowing my words
to slide over them
fitting comfortably
like a t-shirt or hoodie.
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A starving artist gotta eat somehow.