Scribble, scribble

I ran across a poem I had started a while back. I don’t remember what I was doing with it, and I can’t honestly see myself ever finishing it, so I thought I’d slap it up on here.
It brings back good memories.

—-

girl changing thing that holds blinds in,
sunlight, streaming
dusk, pink sunlight scraping buildings,
around/behind your thighs
“oh it’s stuck!”
a perfect silhouette
feel her up; she doesn’t care
flower print dress, fashion belt scarf, gray tights
screw, tools,

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