Monday, August 9, 2010


a tiny glob of scarlet
havoc-made splashes of
black glossy oil paint
creating the perfect little being

she'll flirt with you,
dancing lightly across your fingertips,
fluttering, making you believe she'll go,
irridescent wings peeking
timidly from beneath the
outer shell
look away, and she's gone

whatever you do,
don't tie her down.
seclusion kills her.

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