Cool, dew-laden fingers
Stretch and uncurl.
Brushing lingering stars
Gentle breezes
Stir swaying hair into
A fretful ballet
Quiet sunbeams
Fall upon elegant eyes,
The first to see light.
Within dark curls
Striking flowers rest,
Waiting to unfurl.
She is
A morning silhouette,
A tree in sunrise.
A Peaceful Sort of Melancholy
9 months ago
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