Flying Over Basrah
By JamesF
Tue, 07 Oct 2014
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1 comments
Flying over Basrah
and thinking of her,
the smile she wore
when last I saw her,
dreamswept kiss when
once we headed home,
the sound of rain,
lying beside her again.
When nothing meant nothing
and all was put on red,
to keep living until we
dropped dead, to never
look back. Street lights
blaze a fire to Kuwait
City from my window, and I
remember the blaze of gold
as the sun went down
the last time we made love.
JRTF
19/02/14
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I love the flow of this
Permalink Submitted by Insertponceyfre... on
I love the flow of this
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