Sunday, October 27, 2013

she was summer, the mystery of those daisies in her hair.

perhaps you are
that precious dew,
the lifebringer,
precious sensation
bringing life
to what died
so long ago.

i delight in masks
the lie of purity,
the indecision resting
upon a pretty girl's crown.

she will
come tumbling
down.

can
you catch
her?

will she love you
if you do?

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