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Thursday, August 6, 2015

In an old hotel by the end of a river

by Mark James Andrews

she licked her finger tip
unable to turn a proper page
in a magazine laying in her lap
sitting on the radiator at the window
dry skin eyes squinting
glass grime sun smog hidden
whereabouts unknown
in an old hotel by the end of a river.

1 comment:

kechiro said...

Quiet. you can hear the dust.

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