Sunday, April 4, 2010

"g"ODS

You call her the weather; your smile
The most beautiful words strung to distract
A pained and an unrested mind.
You watch her eyes sparkle with dreams
Lighting up as a dead candle,
Forming through fire.
You allow her to deepen her bow
Widen her porcelain smile,
And release her arms wide open,
Before you cut her; leave her bleeding
Another wound, another scar.

But she is your weather, your smile
Your sunshine;
Your natural disaster.
Careful.

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