Hot wax and the fertile crescent
hey you, bright smile too wearing the Moon charms and eyes peered through the Sun and its new baby blue soft skinned knees too with Spring at night still praying, watching the faint vestality of Winter's exit in the clouds, all her bellies full soften with dreams tied to time and the tides of chance as if they already knew how much certain blooms need the strange comfort and beauty of a smile dancing upon your thought's door when not looking to feel how bending low enough to pour the southerlies ignores both legend and lore and all the whispers between beats opened wired moored needs like windows ought to be opened as hearts often are sleeping sweetly roped and aware that the door is now ajar .... :-)
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