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AFTER THE HONEYMOON With blazing eyes and open mouth, she hails, Your socks are on the floor again. "Get on the bed," he thinks, looking at her pretty mouth, ignoring her words. In the morning she strides outside, flings socks in the trash with a flourish as the neighbor smiles wishing he were younger while his wife, unclips limp underwear to drop into a basket - Judith Pordon Published in Impetus #6
Impetus Implosion Press Cheryl A Townsend/Editor 4975 Comanche Trail Stow, Oh 44224-1217 Impetus@aol.com