She Flies Uncorrectable Poem by James McLain
She Flies Uncorrectable
If there are any flaws
into her veins they fall.
Sitting in a box of
quickened sand.
Playing the flute
faun to pan then
turns and runs.
Leaf of many wings lay
on and in divergent colors.
Flirt with the ocean
she lays in wait
sea wind air so sweet to hear.
to be con.
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4/24/2024 7:49:16 AM # 1.0.0.1119
