Kate Moss tires of the runway

A Poem by Anon ymous

She is tired of stars, the sun, the boring moon.
Prefers sand, silt and mountains;

cool streams for bathing. Wishes for a wayward
breeze to dry her hair;

dyes it brown then blonde then back again.
Her body feels a shimmer

of light, she can feel the shape of his heart
in every beat of her own.

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