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Brunette
September 4, 2013
She melts;
she coats the tongue like coffee
with eyes dyed to match;
she’s sultry sandalwood
incense;
she chases tequila with
memories of a
vintage voice echoing through
city streets;
she bleeds into me like
soft neo-soul and
mahogany jazz;
she squeezes her
laugh into sweet nectar;
she rolls off my back
like thunder through
stony mountains;
she echoes and re-echoes.
© Michelle W., Ada, MI
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