10 Jan 2008

the hint of her coming is as the moment fills with magic
the curve of her cheek a line between the real and dreaming
she is what a flower imagines itself to be in its fantasy
she lifts me with her eyes until i am drifting with the moon
her kiss is where time stops, eternity wrapped in her lips
her eyes are where the rose of fate blooms before me

where am i? so lost in that whisper that it is everywhere

posted by John H. Doe @ 12:01 am

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