Tuesday, October 23, 2012

~`~`~

She smokes in the sanctuary.
She is as lovely as a pebble.
She traded a hatchet for a soft anvil.
She is the same color as October.

In the hot grass, in the lake.
In a summer dripping with quiet.
She is flimsy like a kite on the earth.
She is a hot material, she is a solid.

~`~`~

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