But.

Like a gently woven memory,
it crawls under the skin –
intimacy so close, you’d share breaths;
With the star dust and gold, layered in heart
sparkling and shimmering, like a bright moon,
It whispers, in the calm breeze and streaming water,
Never does it end, how deeply knitted, my dear;
But you can never forget, the first love of your
tiny chest, when it bloomed and smiled.

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6 thoughts on “But.

  1. I’ve flown so far away from that warm nest knitted with dreams- yet words make feel I’m still pinning in that cold nest with the smell of wet feathers left behind.

    Your words scare me sometime, their beautiful but I don’t want to be wingless again.

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