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Image for the poem The Braid

The Braid

She seems a bit neurotic
Eccentricities to spare
But her presence is erotic
As she descends the stair

Her long hair twisted in a braid
Which she wields in her grip
Scars begin to fade
New wounds healed by a whip

Her braid becomes a tether
Looks like she'll remain
Could be we'll stick together
If her hair can take the strain...  
 
Written by crowfly
Published
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