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Sexy In Her Sneakers
There are no such finalities
Of practical realities in the
Times I’ve stumbled into,
Where she sits upon a note
Once wrote on a bit of paper
Somehow sticking to my fingers,
She unveils her inner beauty
Duty driven I feel her body
Naked in her sneakers and
Any fool could tell, she plays
The mystery well to a melody
That sounds like Lennon
She strums softly in her hair,
As she draws me closer comes
A twisting roller coaster
With the Beatles singing wildly
Ain’t she sexy in her sneakers.
Stephen Nesbitt ©
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