She came strolling up the mountain
carrying flowers in her basket.
Barefoot again, and I've told her..
dress is torn, frayed along the edges
but she's smiling..
I'm so happy to see her..
She's sunshine draped in a cloud.
Who are those flowers for?
Are those for me, my love?
Nobody but the moon.
He's had a hard night, don't you know?
Waited for me by the well,
and I never showed.
(She never showed. . .)
I fell asleep under a cloud.
Half past midnight.
my sandals I left beneath
the rose bushes?
Now they're all wet. . .
I don't think they'll fit anymore.
She saunters off. . .
dress melts away, she just smiles.
A sloppy mess,with
kissable lips..
I don't know how many times I've told her..
In times of hope, and redemption,
she's my favorite bad habit.
I hope she knows how much I love her.
But she keeps courting the moon.
Makes me want to cry..
A wicked gleam lights her eyes,
fend off the world, underneath my wing..
Fly with me, my love..
I'll dry your tears,
make your dreams come true..
She doesn't care, to her,
I'm just her shameful past.
She just smiles and turns away. . .
I love it when she does that.
Nothing but a bad habit, I tell myself. . .
Nothing but a bad habit. . .









I LOVE THIS, wonderful, image-laden piece of magic..this just what one needs to feel inspired

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