“burlesque”

There is a girl

who sits in the distance

pale skin

dark eyes

brewing

whiskey on her breath

bleeding barley waves

breezing like a flag

outstretched into thin air

tiptoeing tightropes

into noses unconscious but one

inhaling deeply

dark whisky eyed

dreaming of

her

under eyelashes

crossing

ears tingling,

warming in the wave pulse

sound machine symphony

a carnival

of horns shrieking

metal plates falling from cupboards

and hollow barrel kickings,

sounds like my brain thinking

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