Her lips were fire engines, painted bright red and they fed the flames in the starry nights that were her eyes.
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Her lips were fire engines, painted bright red and they fed the flames in the starry nights that were her eyes.
Always new wonderful images. A blog I NEVER regret to read …
This reminds me of one of my favourite Dutch poems by Paul Snoek – but in this case the poet/painter has run out of red – but he still has her lips! See here:
https://vuurklip.wordpress.com/2014/02/12/1194/