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Unaccustomed to long lashes
finding out which way she can be a flower
or something close to
further apart, each finger caresses
tall grass
a nurturing father ahead of his time
yet behind her

Tip toes are a religion
praying to focus secrets
across magnifying lenses now
Found now she knows
that trait will someday
fold her old ways and put them
In drawers until, like
Lost memories or
stolen kisses
something that awakens when found

Tried and true lashes wet with morning dew

more by LORD BISON

CHECK OUT That Golden Woman – A Spoken Word Album by Lord Bison

Photograph by Shyamanta Baruah

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Lord Bison

Jazz-soaked spirit running circles around despair...or something like that. Really. Lover of words, lover of being in worlds New Yorker, artist, Virgo besieged by airhead tendencies akin to Libra moves. Bronx is home base. Began an obsession with writing at seven and twenty-odd years hence, still at it. Enjoy/love/hate/be bored/appreciate to your heart's content. Or something like that.

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