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Ice Cream LadiesPassion flutters like summer rain in the drying glow of tomorrow. So with that in mind, the ice cream ladies dangle their thoughts upon the glittering fabric of polyester pant suits. Dressed in their finest clothes, they scramble like insects seeking food from a stranger. Better to bond with nameless ones that to stay exposed with those who truly know them. There is no mystery amongst the minds who have come to explore the world together. Ice cream melts in the melting sun, and so in trembling anticipation the ladies of hidden hearts will trap themselves into frozen images of existence. Forever linking their inside out thinking with the tumbling of falling heroes who have become endnotes of somebody else's story.. Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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