A spritz
O tangled hair
small of back
length of leg
It all comes back
to a comb, a spritz, a
lipstick
©2007
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An Empty Vase
An empty vase can be cobalt blue barely reflecting light coming in the window, dim like the last row of trees on a weste...
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Just thinking about the guitarist that night, who can sing of love in the most contorted fashion until the word has lost all lovelines...
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