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Ginger
before I raised my hands
but not in applause,
she was a live-wire,
pulled like an angel jitterbugging
towards the light of stars in a
wild nocturnal samba or
waltzing past the jaws of bats in
ball-gown of brown and ginger,
this after
bearing a plane-full of young, then
jiving like a flying tiger,
break-dancing on honeysuckle nectar
that ballerina's heart be...
Monday 24th August 2020 10:36 am
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