Softer Than Daylight
The light which leads
The morning in.
Is not so bright anymore
As one that loved me,
Her kisses she baptised me with.
They woke me less
Than the electric touch of fingers,
Playing me
Like wind in the trees,
Waves breaking
Then there was her voice,
Softer but rough in daylight
Gently breaks good bye to me
With no regret
In her face.
Copyright © Yvonne Livingstone Kania | Year Posted 2014
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