at cocktail hour she rides her bike
over the colourful chalk bodies of her
neighbor's children with dust shrieking
at the heels of her trainers she watches
with a blush to the west over mt. baker
perched upon a cement highland she'll
wait for the flicker of sodium lamps and
the dead heat of a setting sun, wishing
wishing a woman could warm her right
















Comments
nice poem.
--
dopamiine.
But awesome poem. =]
--
Please check out my gallery.
I'm aspiring to be professional,
So some comments and feedback
Would be superb.
i just realised you're talking about my lesbo-ism
thanks for the comment!!
--
dopamiine.
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