Open Poetry #47 |
in her own skin |
Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
I felt her skin under each tear of her clothes you could see her unveil her eyes like the statues of the park under the guise of the wind She had a small note in the back-pocket of her jeans where she use to carry her thoughts under the deep lipped sun of fall each and every year Her soft skin those little pores along her ankle as she slipped out of bed into a long shower As the morning turned to the afternoon side She touched her skin like the back channels of her heart to the rivers eastern wake. |
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