poetry & things

Crush of moon

Your eyes are meadows

as if wildflowers abloom

dizzy, dazzling blues

I am tracing your lips, circling round

my mind is racing clouds

a woozy, drunken head

the night a tapestry

an art of ancient weaving

beneath a velvet sky

our lily white sighs, breathing

under the crush of moon

we crash and dream

after the wilds

of wooing

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