Kitten Heels
She gave uptight shoes for
open toed sandals
and her air
is complacent now
for one who once
was as restless
as long nights
spent dancing
her heels
rubbed raw.
She likes
flowers and fireworks,
watering her
hanging baskets
oblivious that she’s
dousing flames
of ardour’s just below.
Sometimes she remembers
clinched waists and
pinched shoes,
the furtive looks
and clandestine
trips of booking
into love nests
under pseudonyms.
Poetry by Elle
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Written on 2008-05-27 at 10:09
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Anne Westlund |
Texts |
by Elle Latest textsTwo Little CatsHills Not the End Cinders Oh perfect Day |
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