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Bleached White

A Poem

By Alex MauricePublished 6 years ago 1 min read
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Photo by Terry Johnston

Your sweet spirit and love above,

Your goddess voice up in front,

The metal that runs near the septum,

The faithful leaves that embed your wrist,

Energy and liveliness fill you,

Your heart inks you;

My sense is one of assurance,

That you are genuine, and not a poser,

No strict rule book runs you,

Only love and the natural fills you;

It feels weird, just to lay eyes,

Dirtiness and lust, I cannot,

With prominent bleached white upstairs,

Your focus is away from the one downstairs.

inspirational
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About the Creator

Alex Maurice

Short story writer, poet, and essayist.

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