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august 21, 2012; 11:01pm

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you walk
back lit
like some
noir fatale
through those
swingin doors
ordering whiskey
and standing
so subtle
so steadfast
so seductive
that I
can barely
sit still
I never
want to
know you
or see
you again
because trouble
was born
in autumn
and colored
with turquoise
and whispers
lite philosophy
under quiet
tennessee moonlight


Written by burrben

August 22, 2012 at 4:09 am

Posted in poetry

Tagged with ,

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