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Image for the poem Stroke

Stroke

her fade
(if it must)
she decided
would bring to mind
a canvas reminiscent
of a Starry Night
worthy of a masters stroke
but she
she bopped so fine
So sugar sweet
that her fingers rubbed autonomy into euphoria
This was such a stunning display
So much so
 Van Gogh himself sighed great chagrin  
rolled over heavy in his grave
and prepared his other ear
Written by calamitygin (Jennifer Michael McCurry)
Published
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