Poems of Lighthouse Bob
Spoons #546
Spoons The you in me longs spoons in camisoles naked underneath while nestling meditations in fetal position of a time reflecting the passion oozed from romance novels on a balmy evening. On a balmy evening the you in me in truth scans periodicals looking for the immaculate garage sale while nurturing the crying baby eating pureed applesauce from flying rocket spoons. |
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Spoons #546
Spoons #546