August 15, 2013 § 4 Comments

Understanding who she is
is to want to see her again.
The smallest details of our time
are the thoughts that haunt my day.
She laughed
and pushed a strand of hair from her face.
She clapped and whispered,
this is one of my favorites.
She looked into my eyes
and made me understand.
—The Business Man who Wrote a Poetess a Poem :]

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§ 4 Responses to Breezy

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