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No. 5

February 18th, 2013 by Magdalena Tabor
She wore blue.
She wore jewels
That matched her eyes
Choosing one or two
From those scattered on the bed,
And kept all the rest
In a black laquered box
From Japan.
She wore red.

She wore Chanel.
She wore a look
That simply sparkled
From the diamond of herself.
Placed on a mirrored tray,
Her thoughts as far away
As the square cut glass
From Paris.
Her eyes wore silver grey.

And the crystal bedside lamp
Would click off.
Velvet slipper soft,
She wore dancing shoes
When they were young.
She loved my father.
She wore No. 5.

She wore her smile.
She wore black and white
In photographs
In classic tailored style.
But that was long ago, when he
Was here to make her happy.
They flew to Europe
In a plane they called Swiss Air
Wearing Heaven on her sleeve.

She wore it well.
She wore a pure silk scarf
That held the fragrance
Of herself.
Placed on the dresser top,
There’s still a drop
At the bottom of her
Broken heart.
She wore Chanel.

And the crystal bedside lamp
Would click off.
Velvet slipper soft,
She wore dancing shoes
When they were young.
She loved my father.
And wore No. 5.

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One Response to “No. 5”

  1. K. Scot Sparks Says:

    ..some very special images there, brother. love, k

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