Coney Island Rose would wait on line for hours,
Lay down her nickel and her dime;
All of your flickers held strange, magnetic powers -
Rough-House Rosie, naturally, her favorite at the time.
Afterwards, her dreams both day and night would
Burst with visions of how sweet your life must be;
Only you would trade it with her if you could,
Wanting nothing more than love's security.
Clara Bow
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3 comments:
Gorgeous. Simple and moving. A tasty little poem.
i like it! sorry it took me so long to take a look :(
Glad you liked it! ^_^ No worries, they don't expire. *laughs*
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