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Nov 2015
i.

in the air
the sweet flow
of a bird.

ii.

drawn, perfect blossom,
the wind that refuses to settle.  

iii.

november’s fine golds
melt like clouds.

iv.

i burn for your kiss
like a bird that stays
with a boat
my lips seek your lips
forever.
beth fwoah dream boleyn
Written by
beth fwoah dream boleyn  England
(England)   
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