Woman with a Veil 3

The woman with a veil walks Paris bright
as if born in the outskirts. Nursing night
and day she is given leave from front lights
of surgery closings blessed infinite.

Such coffee, such treats unavailable
in Bellevue, Washington where her stable
choices jailed sit at her parents' table,
but here her French flows in war-torn Babel.

The next woman dressed ambulatory
for France flips cards whispering loud glories
sifted through southern rum lips. (Amore!)
Two men lose their hands inhaling stories.

This enigmatic shark toasts her veiled hat.
Her gratitude lost in cards of the deck.
There is no such thing as leftover pizza. There is now pizza and later pizza. - anonymous
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
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