BlueIris
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Sun Nov-15-09 09:30 PM
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The BlueIris Semi-Nightly Poetry Break, 11/15/09 |
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Edited on Sun Nov-15-09 09:37 PM by BlueIris
"Sunday Night in the City"
Hand in hand, we lie on the bed, our long legs crossed like folded wings, our long feet touching the footboard in shadow, curved like a headstone with grapes. Your hair is ruffled, dark as black walnut, curled like the tendril of vines. Your right hand is in my right hand. My left hand is in your left. arms linked like skaters, we lie under the picture of farmland: brush dark and blurred as smoke, trees lifting their ashen fish-skeletons, and central to it, over us, the calm pond, silent as if eternal. --Sharon Olds
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Tuesday Afternoon
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Sun Nov-15-09 09:35 PM
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BlueIris
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Sun Nov-15-09 09:37 PM
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2. You might like it better now that I've weeded the typos out of it. nt |
Tuesday Afternoon
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Sun Nov-15-09 09:40 PM
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to me. I like it with or without the typos :)
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CaliforniaPeggy
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Sun Nov-15-09 09:53 PM
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Ah, lovely!
I really appreciate the consistent metaphors that point towards death...
Erotic without being explicit is great too...
Thank you!
:D
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DU
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Wed May 01st 2024, 09:48 AM
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