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My flight
Is pretty tight
As I ride up with a blink of an eye
Towards the abundant sky
With my new gorgeous beau
As he stubbed his toe
Looking back at me
Tripping over luxury
Said I was “everything he desired”
And “that nothing is required”
When we jet set to his private home
Off the coast of Rome
Wait, that’s our next trip
Winking as he took a sip
From the vodka dirty martini
While unknotting my stringed bikini
“Forgive me for wanting you so damn much”
Smirking his devilish grin, he said, “I just want to touch”
“Every sensual inch of your skin”
As he shut the plane door and whispered, “my mile-high-club is a decadent sin”
Goodbye Vegas City
I’m finally sitting pretty

mile high

8.5.2016 mile high; poem

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