Saturday, February 22, 2014
The Last Morning
The Last Morning
This morning I felt
you melt, dripping like warm wax
might, red blush warm wax.
The pale light mixed in
with your aroma, sleep sweet.
You've a warm waxy
glow and my dewy
eyes blinked back my sudden tears
at the thought of all
that comes next for us.
Your horses whickered nearby.
Then I smelled leather.
February 22, 2014 3:16 PM
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Beautiful!
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