Girl

Girl

A girl once smiled at me’
At an amusement park on a spring afternoon
The sun was bright as was her mouth
I knew nothing about her
Except she whore an orange cardigan
And smelled like carnations
Blooming in the cold morning mist
But the roller coaster car inclined,
And as it sped through its course,
Not a word was spoken,
We hopped off—
Never to see each other again.

by Ianaldo Prescott Pourchot

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