poetry & things

Untitled

She was speaking

butterflies floated from her lips

fragile wings

caressed your mind

together, entwined

you flew

fragrant petals were her pillow

a scented garden filled your room

you were dreaming,

roses soft, laid

upon your bed

a morning of golden sun

compassion, salvation

of sacred dawn

they were barren

void of masks

becoming utterly

love

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