Her Love My Lover
Pitter patter falls the sound this rains
Lipstick traces, about her window pane..
Brushing beauty as that her canvas poetic
Of words like cleansing showers; caressing velvet
Heart's a colourful scene; she painting in dreams
Beyound the gray tasting their tender tips; dipped
Within vivid pools and her melting splendours...
Gathering vistas these ecstasies her, love; my lover.
Copyright © Rachel St.Cross | Year Posted 2013
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