Saturday, October 23, 2010

Saturday Morning with Her Sunday Shoes

After the cough,
Sun light falling
Down from the
Morning rise on
The coffeehouse
Wooden floors -
Through the wide
Open door with
People walking in
With money to buy.
I can tell her beauty
Behind the counter
Is contagious to the
Type of blood my
Veins run with ...
She eats pumpkin
Ice cream. Wants me
Addicted - her telepathy
Is infectious and wants
Me addicted to her world
It's why she's contagious.
But I over hear her tell
Her story of how it's only
Just a cold, just a cough.
Her black eyes beaming
With thoughts of capture.

Written 10/23/10 before Noon
Gianni French and
Best of Rusted Roses, ...
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

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