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The Unfolding
The Unfolding
Reclined in Baroque splendor
On her back
Upon Jung’s red velvet divan
Stilettos lifted to heaven
Her All Hallows gossamer is a black rose
In the midnight pool of satin
Of her cocktail dress, gold sashed at the waist
That she wears so, her skin can breathe
When his questions make her sweat
And her makeup just makes it worse
But she would feel naked without it
When she confesses that in her dreams
She is the film noir archetype
Of Dietrich in “Touch of Evil”
Even Jung takes off his dinner jacket
As she unfolds like a flamenco fan
For the gypsy dance
Of smoky secrets unveiled
Reclined in Baroque splendor
On her back
Upon Jung’s red velvet divan
Stilettos lifted to heaven
Her All Hallows gossamer is a black rose
In the midnight pool of satin
Of her cocktail dress, gold sashed at the waist
That she wears so, her skin can breathe
When his questions make her sweat
And her makeup just makes it worse
But she would feel naked without it
When she confesses that in her dreams
She is the film noir archetype
Of Dietrich in “Touch of Evil”
Even Jung takes off his dinner jacket
As she unfolds like a flamenco fan
For the gypsy dance
Of smoky secrets unveiled
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