pink

her long limbs move in waves,
like cedar, like rolling dust.
the soles of her feet (look
closely as she spins) are black
with sorrow, bleeding with desire
as she flicks them and arches
her toes against the gravel.
her movements heavy as coins,
serious as water, beautiful
as nightmares. she writhes in
ecstasy on streets before you,
to music she alone can hear.

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About ky

Poet. Photographer. Writer. Goddess. View all posts by ky

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