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birdy Apr 2022
She cries
reads her book
her eyes reflecting the ink of stories
her lips quiver as if she were
about to call out
to the one she thinks of
when she reads
and sits by the window.
for more look under the 'Stranger' collection on my profile
birdy Apr 2022
They were like spring,
awaking me from the depths of her who is winter.
birdy Apr 2022
Girls of greatness must make haste,
for men of the very same stature start up a few pace!
birdy Apr 2022
a myriad of moths drawn to her hair
glowing as if godly somethings, it should bear.
birdy Apr 2022
Iris framing a soul's song,
a black pearl for which I long.
birdy Apr 2022
The pleasant chatter of the birds,
the mellifluous cries of the herds.
birdy Apr 2022
Here I lay in summer's wake.
But truly,
I died that day
out at the bay.
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