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poetry Short Stories Uncategorized

within the milk of a star lit morning

the first time
i saw his face
was
a moment suspended
within the milk of a star lit morning

deep beneath
layers of winter
my tightly cut
snow glistening
wool coat and garbo scarf
glided through quarter notes
on the moving street

he turned to face me directly
as i came closer

his eyes forgot everything but mine

one look
and i knew
that i’d been going about it all wrong

i raised my brow
with a sultry smile
and said

good morning

in such a way
that made him want to hear it

spoken
just like that
into his ear

as he entered me
for centuries

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