Posted: Tuesday, September 11, 2012 in Poems
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I required wine
and you brought two bottles to the beach,
where I undressed you

the common way—imagining it.
You lodged yourself
in the way of some fantasies,

blocking my view of the north side of Paris.
You were the color of almonds

almost burnt in a dry pan,
but you could not rival Paris.

— Jasmine V. Bailey

Jasmine V. Bailey is Web Editor for 32 Poems and was the 2010 O’Connor creative writing fellow at Colgate University. Her chapbook, Sleep and What Precedes It, is available from Longleaf Press and her book-length manuscript, Alexandria, is forthcoming from Carnegie Mellon.


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