Saturday, April 15, 2006

Feathers

Into your arms
Without regret
I want to be

Torn between
Heavens best
And my dreams

Batted lash
Sincere words
We're smiling

Downy skin
Scented breast
And dancing

Swans bends
Pure emotion
That blooms

Shy intent
Fabric
The passion

Swallows singing
Fresh linen,
Good-morning

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