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 Aug 2019 Lighter
Al
Bohemian girl
 Aug 2019 Lighter
Al
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.
 Aug 2019 Lighter
Luna
hurts me
 Aug 2019 Lighter
Luna
The look in your eyes
hurts more
than the blade
on my hip

— The End —