Editing poetry: Pretty things

The jukebox effortlessly stretches for a disc
Each one easy to find
Everything in its right place
All chrome and pinstriped
Pretty things, held apart like base pairs splitting
A helix always moving away
If I could touch them, they would melt like flakes
Those six-sided memories of childhood
But they would be mine to dissolve explode
Crush like fragrant incense
Those multi-sided memories of travel
For just one day
I’ll wait for the night to fall
The fear to fade
A night,
A simple request
Dark hair, skin, a hand on my heart.
So what if I like pretty things?

via Editing poetry: Pretty things.

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