tagNon-Erotic PoetryThe Light of Distant Cities

The Light of Distant Cities


When his fingers touched her breasts,
her ego left for Omaha—
by the night train, the one with all the stops.

The body that remained was like that statue in the park,
the one the lightning struck, scarred
a little from the bolt and always strangely warm.

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byTzara© 8 comments/ 2877 views/ 1 favorites

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