The air held her,

arms high

hands wrapped

through long tendrils

a flashbulb pattern

burnt in her skin

tattooed in a silhouette

wrapt in ink

that steeped too deep

in film that formed

before for my eyes.


Rush into a web

of blood in the din

caught in the light

creased between

flashes of flesh

and in the dim

capture of bulbs.



spun into a flood

milked white

in her motion

and broadcast

from shutter to shudder.


Flashed dance

cashed into credit

milked from red carpet spills

the night begs again,


and ready to begin.


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