Tuesday, November 22, 2016

The Red Popsicle

The Red Popsicle

A look at the Rainbow counter,
that was selling red popsicles,
turned my eyes bright.

A glimpse of the red candy,
that was made of ice,
froze my summer Sun.

A touch of the red popsicle,
that was cold and moist,
turned my sweats into rains.

A lick, on the red lump,
that was a popsicle,
colored my tongue with blood.
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