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When She
Smiled
When she smiled
It was the real thing,
Not one of those political
Grins of suspect eyes loaded
With baggage peering over cracked
Lips,
When she smiled
Her entire body was
Lit by the fire of passion
That seemed sparked from the
Seat of her soul feeding her eyes
Sips,
Of a dancing elixir
That took you off waltzing
To those places poets imagine.
Stephen Nesbitt © . |
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