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 Aug 2016
Butch Decatoria
Dawn's ceremony.
Wet grass tickling bare feet.
Wave away the night.
 Aug 2016
Butch Decatoria
Warm whispers my lips/down smooth meadows of your neck/sweet familiar bed.
 Aug 2016
Butch Decatoria
So divine such grace
Words not made to embody
Ballet when God speaks
 Aug 2016
Butch Decatoria
Her soft petals fall,
easy as wild poetry:
muse for medicine.
 Aug 2016
Butch Decatoria
A golden pinwheel;
Tall and proud, the face of day,
burns bright Love's bounty.
 Aug 2016
Butch Decatoria
How like a feather
in dancing fields, royal hues
perfume the twilight.
 Aug 2016
Butch Decatoria
Death's devastating
chaos - drowns all the petty
fights and last concerns.

— The End —