Tales From The Patio: #1 Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr
Tales From The Patio: #1
The lass with the
Crimson cheeks
Stood beside me
And I can catch her scent
Even from a far.
It was different.
She smelt not of
Raspberries,
Not of November even,
But she was different.
Who am I, again?
Friday, December 30, 2011
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9/19/2024 7:22:38 PM # 1.0.0.1119
