SHORT STORY
June 2014 or 2016
I met a lady
Long and cool.
She spoke to me in dark chocolate whispers..
Some say it should read "husky..
But..
They were so rich,
They tatted the texture of goose bumps on my skin.
What does that mean?
What does it matter?
Just accept..
That your ears taste the air in search of a mystery.
She is a syllable serving her sentence
Amidst the otherwise mundane...
A musical note,
Hidden in a poem...and...
I found her in the heap of my scattered dreams,
And I was an inkblot in her otherwise ordered world...
She left,
About the Creator
Victor Mendez
Born in 1958.There's a lot of road beneath these feet.Worn out pairs upon pairs of shoes.Been a ranch kid,a city kid,a Marine,a dad, a grandfather now,an avid reader and just recently began writing poetry in 2015 just to vent.
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