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My neighbor with red lips
Across the aisle
Is seized by writing.
Crimson-nailed fingers
Thrust a pen,
Spilling a riot of ink.
She scrawls ferocious,
Passion soaking
Through pages.
Her heart was touched.
A ballpoint whispers
This woman’s secrets.
She stares and smiles
At me, as if
Feeling my thoughts.
copyright 2019
Kirby
Wright |
