Poetry

Glenn McCrary


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21 may 2012

Virgin Leaves

The eloquent foundation of a treaty evolved
Luck danced within the fabric that was our skin
Virgins we were to such tasteful artistry
Senses sharpening with each candid discovery

Phosphorescent rivulets blandished our bones
Displaying bravuras of a sensory love
By the vines of felicity we were skeined

A bed of our locks sleet had designed
Fleet each word had become razed
Illustrating wicked fallacies






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