I Let
by Laura Nejako
the wind romance my dress, flirting with the hem
so that it looked like a calla lily kissing
the grass petals of the earth muted in
the springtime waltz, softly whispering
ballet slippers out of rhythm,
made beautiful in the musings of
the sunlight reaching past the trees
through the earthy fingers, picking
gently like thorns of the rose I
touched on my cheeks, the budding of
virginal lips touched only by
the taste of this moment
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