Red Girl. (her experience)

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this is a poem i wrote years ago by looking at a painting in a theraputic writing class. I wonder does anyone know what she is doing?

Red Girl.

Balance, thru an edge of steel,

Warm reds all flow in wollen bliss,

Sharp winter's breath cuts thru my skin,

To kiss my face; shock tingling nerve,

I feel alive and unobserved.

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