Miss Peach

misspeach

Faint path sun scored woods
We take and shouldn’t take each
Other where we will want what
Will we find this night we didn’t
All the other nights who knows

Pleated cans fractured bags slimy
Rubbers how romantic but yes
Flatline cicadas flaring fireflies

Here the wind strips the insubstantial
Clothes slipping off your peach body
Like dry leaves from a frozen pond

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