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February 15, 2013 / AdamWritesPoems

A Nose By Any Other Name

He smells the shampoo in her hair,
she listens to the tale he tells
and wishes she could be elsewhere.
He smells.

Leering at her feminine swells,
not trying to disguise his stare,
as she tries to bid her farewells.

He smells her scent as she sits there,
aloof as all the other belles,
imagining her body bare.
He smells.

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