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Mea Culpa

Mea Culpa

Stain-glass panes where Laptop images dance
With my platform a coffee sutra
Surrounded by flamenco fan skirts
That unfold like pleated kilts
Where I sit like a Buddha
eyes glued to the golden light
Who approaches with steamy heat in hand
And apologizes for my lost time
so sweetly it sounds
More like a romantic entreaty
Than a concession of the territory
She makes her own
Written by goldenmyst
Published
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