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In Barcelona

Ron Pretty

Sep 01 2013

0 mins

I awoke to see a tall dark beauty

standing by the bed.

West Indian, perhaps, with high cheek bones,

a feather in her stylish cap.

Being an aficionado of the Bard

I murmured,

Oh you wonder, are you a maid

or what?

Immediately it was clear

that she was not.

I watched her sliding back

into the mirror

(a dark shadow) from whence

she came.

As light insinuated outlines

to the room,

the wardrobe slowly opened,

the mirror turned its back,

the space that she had blessed

was wholly black.

Ron Pretty

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