Ribs


Here in the twilight between her kiss and midnight
I wait,
she holds my fate in her hands
two delicate bands
of pure gold.

She is the one that I love,
I am the hawk to her dove and yet that doesn’t apply,she is my butterfly and I often think why, this is so.
She is the falling of snows,the blanket that covers,two delicate bands
for two sensitive lovers.

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