Thursday, April 21, 2016

Day 232

I pretend the crescent moon
is the soft curve of your back
and the stars are the twinkle
in your eyes when you smile
I pretend the crickets chirp to the
tempo of your heart beating
and the tree branches swaying
are your hips as we dance


I pretend the shooting star
I just wished upon
will hear my plea and
you will soon be back in my
arms again

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