She dances
moonsoaked and citrine
with pale paper skin,
smooth palms open toward the sky
and from her desert-kissed lips
spill wildflower prayers.
She knows she is but
a fleeting impression
against the canvas of the night
so she betrays all her silver secrets
to the all too eager wind
who whisks them away
to some dusky autumnal den.
Mar 12, 2020
Mar 12, 2020 at 12:04 AM UTC
She dances
moonsoaked and citrine
with pale paper skin,
smooth palms open toward the sky
and from her desert-kissed lips
spill wildflower prayers.
She knows she is but
a fleeting impression
against the canvas of the night
so she betrays all her silver secrets
to the all too eager wind
who whisks them away
to some dusky autumnal den.
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