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a l i c e   3

t o m   w r i g h t



you had a flower.

when I saw you
first,

sunsink
reflected
on the crest

a piggy bank of moments.

And in the depths – a box

Typed and folded along black edges and Cliffside poetic

I have no experience to write of but this one instance:

Warm lips as

butterflies
are exchanged between
souls.

[]

 

© copyright 2004, tom wright, all rights reserved
 


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