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Raincoats And Writing
It had been raining
Off and on
So it wasn’t unusual
To see a stunning lady in a
Long buttoned London Fog
Belted at her narrow waist,
When the others had gone
She came up to the counter
With her cinnamon ginger latte
And said, I’ve been reading
Your writing,
It’s real and surreal and strange,
But I like it,
What do you mean?
She smiled and opened her coat
To her beautiful nakedness,
You don’t have to fuck me
To know you would like to,
Whether you need to or would,
Whatever the ride, the memory
Residing inside would remain
Special forever,
Your writing does this for me,
And you see, should you write
About this
No one will believe it,
Real and surreal and strange,
She buttoned her coat
Tightened her belt
And left as others
Were coming in,
I thought about you
I don’t know why
But I did,
Perhaps the mystical magic
Of Goddesses, raincoats and writing.
Stephen Nesbitt ©
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