my cardigan
rolling down
my back
and arms
like smoke.
gliding
and
drifting
down
the neck
of the deepest
wooden woman.
she dances
with pulsing emotion,
rhythmically aligned
with the enumerated
stars.
scratching
the snare.
the lights go out
and there is a glittery,
glowing,
fluorescent
feel to her spirit.
blameless
and contagious.
pure-hearted gem.
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