Counterparts entangled on a Tuesday afternoon
She walks
like she always knows where she is going
and then she smiles
stops
it is as if time pauses and their hearts
can only beat if their
bodies
t o u c h
as they talk about the weather
in the black leather sofa
he probably hates the way her
pink nailpolish is worn down
and how she speaks
in sentences of archaic words
and she
certainly cannot stand
the way he never irons his shirts
yet their bodies breath as one
it seems
beauty
in her smile
Poetry by CC
Read 819 times
Written on 2009-03-05 at 21:15
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jenks |
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Rob Graber |
Rob Graber |
Kathy Lockhart |