SheA Poem by Francis-GrayThe unstructured doodling of how I wished old flames could rekindle.
Is she the same as she
in Bath, Wine sipping air from the glass and hair curled Into the undertones of her laugh. Lips soft porcelain wrapped brittle wisps in smoke, to tangents of dog-eared Nietzsche clutched upon her thought And mine in turn. But I forget my philosophies Now in retreat Arms close to heart nestled those quotes in armchairs T.V miming behind new books Bestsellers, top forty at least. That same wine a stain on her teeth Is she the same as she? I do believe It is that she The same indeed. © 2013 Francis-GrayAuthor's Note
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4 Reviews Added on September 9, 2013 Last Updated on September 9, 2013 AuthorFrancis-GrayExeter, Devon, United KingdomAboutA young amateur poet from Devon, in need of some form of venting of my poetry, as for too long it has remained collecting dust in my old books, so here I am. I have been writing most of my life, th.. more.. |

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