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Apr 2015
Flowers whisper your name,
A breath that hangs around my face.
I want to press my nose against you,
Inhale you deep, exhale your gold dust
To color a moonlit way with the essence.
Love has placed stepping stones, which we follow,
A path, leading into the bower of our night garden.
Revised 4-14-2015, final draft
S R Mats
Written by
S R Mats  F/Houston, TX
(F/Houston, TX)   
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