Saxophone
Foreign,
shine dampened
metal chipped
metallic taste
a smell
a sort of tarnish
a rust about to...
cool
watery
splashing
puddles
waves
surfing on
foam
seashells rising
up to the
wind
air
diving through...
a hot air balloon
taking off
so crimson red
so light and fantastic
just foreign,
except to me.
I really like this poem.
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