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Writer's pictureHannah Cunningham

Lost Park

Blazing heat broken by soft shade.

Plaid fabric beneath,

The smell of the port,

Of gasoline

Of ocean mist,

Sweet shattered trees.

Your warmth radiates,

My thoughts lull.

A light touch on skin,

Goosebumps arise in finger traced trances.

Mosaic fragments reflect in

Your red and dilated eye.

The parched cliff surrounds us,

Sun speckles through the magnificent canopy

Above-

Peeking at intertwined bodies of coffee

And cream.

Bodies comforted by familiar lips,

Isolated in this translucent expanse

From all sense of anywhere.

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