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She said, oh my, do you dare to fly
To braid your strengths like feathers to wings
Fill your lungs, baby, and start to sing
Will you dream the dream that sets you free
Wounded soul who trips, falls and scrapes knees?

The habitual ritual, once buffered medicinal
Done leaving thorns, now making amends
Done wearing horns and dancing on ends
Funny, many find it a riddle
To love and balance in the middle

My love, I’m hoping to find you there
With ruby lips and stars in your hair
Your soft hand upon my hot, wet cheek
Mending my heart, no more tears will streak
My lips on yours with a tender kiss
In your ear whispered, “You are my bliss…”

{ 1 comment… add one }
  • Tiffany August 21, 2014, 10:17 am

    Love this. Beautiful.

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