Poetry

Gert Strydom


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6 october 2014

You sit with your legs astride on ground

You sit with your legs astride on ground 
while compact disks are spread out around you
searching for a song that you long for,
wanting to find deeper meaning in music
and through the open window the wind blows in
causing your hair to cover part of your face
and you move your head
while I draw you to your feet
and there are small devils that dance in your eyes
when you lips burn
full of promises under mine.






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