Flying For Him
Over the sea to the north of me, up the river where the crocodiles roam in the village of my lovers home. Painting his face with black, ochre and white, looking just right with the cutest dimples shaping from his magnetic smile. Dedication to his people and culture brings an obscure haze between us where vision blurs hence spirit lifts to fly home, leaving the eagles circling the sky without...me. Wonder if he will follow though how would he with clipped wings and chains of commitment weighing mercilessly his ankles and heart?
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