Twas the night before Valentine’s …

February 13th.


I am dazzled, frazzled

By the vajazzled array.


Cupid’s lurid display.

I blink, can’t think.


I delve the shelves –

The cards wink, flash, splash:


Scarlet garnet cherry

Berry-reds, fleshy pink.


Silver crystal studded black.

I take a step back.


The chasm makes me queasy

Yet it would be so easy


To choose from this buffet

Of cliché.




I’ll think I’ll send a text.

About number6

I am not a number, I am a free woman. More or less.
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