clean as could beA Poem by wolfshrew
I showered with the window open
and the powdered snow blew in across the steam, a stream of mist bathed on my dampened skin. Freshness grew as the train flew by and honked its horn at me, my flesh not dressed, the cold air stressed reactions to a naked body. Across the white there, I fit in to cold patterned crystals dancing in sin, where smiling to myself all bare I crept into myself through a mile of hair as cold and clean as could be. © 2011 wolfshrewReviews
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Added on February 1, 2011Last Updated on February 1, 2011 Author
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