coiled like a lyncher's rope,
Lips--old scars, or the first red blisters,
Breath--the last sweet scent of cane,
And her slim body, white as the ash
of black flesh after flame.
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Poet:Jean Toomer Poem: Portrait in Georgia
Last read: 2016-06-30 06:14:35
Poem of the Day:Apr 1 2010
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Added Apr 8 2005.