I want to be free, and dumb
In a flapping vintage old dress that doesn't reach my knees,
And tights. Black, or blue maybe tights that you wore
Under the purple dress I lent you. You
Said you would not be taken for a girl.
Let's go to St. Armand's.
On a pier we will lick ice creams,
Pale twig legs radiating sunlight, and toes
Curled above the blue-green surface.
Let's go back and forth all day on the ferry.
Dumbly.
Youngly.
Friday, October 9, 2009
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