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Sunburn

Lawn mowers blast Arcadian cacophony.
I flick a mosquito off of me.
Sitting on my front porch step
nails painted in bright red.
Turning all the pages
of my science fiction.
Working on a suntan.
From dome to collarbone.
Cropped top and a houndstooth skirt.
Subjects, objects, and verbs
come and go

🌷(2)

Rhymeobservational

◄ wayward seasons

The Fall ►

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