She Island

In this sea of people their is a desolate dankness in the air. 

Among the cigarette smoke and liquor evaporating from these young bodies;

Her hair, smelling of a new shampoo her friend Hannah suggested, 

is safety, sustinence.

The scent of citrus and lavender, a beautiful gentle streak

Her smooth, child like, skin is tender and sleek.

She is a flower, and I, a buzzing bumblebee.

    She is somewhere I go, 

    When I no longer know,

    If there is anything else clean in this world.

    

 

 

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