Looking like feathers that fell from doves,
In the doorway,
Your hair soaked from the rain,
Eyes peering from beneath,
Pools of heartbreak yearning,
A pair to dance the waltz of ghosts,
Balls of grief in your arms
I beckon you in.
3 thoughts on “Manifest”
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Arresting, the rain, the damp hair like feathers! The ‘balls of grief’ to spill and roll.
Sommer has it in one: short, sweet, sublime
This is exquisite!