A Sexy Florida Morning

Lying in bed squeezing lids tightly closed, light seeps in under the leaky door
Filling more than the floor it splashes and thrashes washing away the dark sand of night
Spraying like a sprinkler through slices of shades, writing word rows of red marching ants.  Fresh squeezed sweet orange juice dripping, whispering memories of the evening’s passion
Covering the naked curves of sexy tanned night with strips of bright new clothes
Pulling open the shades like and old etch and sketch
Erases the wall and the Dream it did call
Warm days beyond the wall
beckon with no pall

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