Sitting on the ledge

with her feet dangling

Fingers crossed behind those buns

Contours of her jaw line

and the naughty smirk

so conveniently rotated in turns

Pursed and enticing lips

red as the bloody wine

Deep breaths and shallow gasps

is all she holds on to

Feet still dangling

but bare this time

A soul so full of desire

known only to a few

She winks and she drinks

with a hand on her waist

She tells her story to none

Once again her feet dangle

from the ledge

Drowning in her own heartburn

She tells me to wait

while shifting her weight

feet still dangling so free

Sarcasm in her tone

eyes full of mischief

Actions smeared with urgency

She looks at me and I glance back

her story she renders complete

This time the ledge is empty as her soul

No more of her dangling feet.

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