Free glances of artfully
formed peaks, bronzed
flesh under eyeless skies.
Under dull red waters
she says: Get your fill now,
'cos I won't be here in
the morning. Broken shells
made a cut on my foot and when
I find the slit, shoeless, I brush it
with a finger and think of you.
First meetings with remarkable
impressions last a long walk
down the boulevard. Oh! my
Indiana cornhusker, my midwestern
belle, how you've entranced
me. From routine to rapture,
violent change like Northeastern
weather patterns. You've blown
me away, away. And it feels
like it's great to exist at this
point in time. A portrait of
two nudes off the Newport
coast, strutting and preening,
The most beautiful birds of color.
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