WEAK SPIRITS

 

 

 

 

Jazz

holds

me captive

when her voice

spills from

strong sculptured

depths…

 

flowing

over the crowd

with warm

summer downpours

of sounds

soaking their souls

richly…

 

Fulfilling

wishful dreams

of lonely men

who count

themselves lucky

to gaze at

her…

 

Eyes

the shade of

Egyptian blue

oceans

where weak spirits

are forever

lost.

 

 

 

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