she walks with hair like
acrid smoke tousled with perfume
eyes daubed in azure at their edges
and flesh like condensed milk brought to a boil.
her touch must be like
the first feeling of cool silk
upon freshly showered skin
in a room that greets dusk openly.
curves beneath her blue shift
dress as waves that lap at costa rican beaches
and her words pour like midnight bourbon
leaving me a pleasurable burn as i take them in.
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