A living breathing poem (Laura)

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
Another Poem by my Cuzin Richie, again Laura...

Submitted: July 03, 2008

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Submitted: July 03, 2008



A living breathing poem

Laura is a living poem

That no one is reading.

She is loud legs crossing under a table

Or thin parting lips

Unglossed and nonplused

And her eyes must be tourches, cuz

They burn like hades when she winks

Just one finger, or maybe two

Could slice so deep that seconds'll pass

Before the blood seeps.

She doesnt smile.

She weats her ear-short and sun-blonde

And has the sand dunes drawn

In light freckles across he cheeks

She hasn't spoken in weeks.

She stands up like a

Line break

Breaks her pencil and

Then leaves

She doesn't blush.

She walks in long, lush strides

And through the clouds of night, the moon

Tunes to the flux of her silent tide.

Her chin sits upon a beveled chest.

In her mind she wear a velvet dress

Though in her heart she knows

She's being undressed.

And her eyes form a hard, honest barricade

With a shade of blue that could pull

If it didnt push so openly.

She's not a clear winter night.

But clouds

Painted to fool one's sight.

She's not a single candlelight

But a wind

That bends the candle flame's might.

Outside she lies

In the wet grass

And glitters

Creating constellations

From the rays in her eyes.

She hums a music box

Piloshed with thought

Just so quiet that only she can hear.

She holds her arms in her hands as if she's been bitten

Laura is a living poem

That can't be written.

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