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The lunatic is on grass

December 20, 2011

Scarletta

A winter sun
And her lazy mittens
Her neck around your arms
and her legs wrapped around yours.

You could feel affection in her eyes
And in her unknown emotion
That took you beyond herself
When her guards were drawn.

She held you close
Like a part of her own
Inside her. Deep within her
Secured in her embrace

Her silent nothings
That only your eyes heard
And her florid lips
That held onto your deepest fears
and made her own

She gazed at your bare soul
And submerged herself
With your sorrows.
Her breaths played
along your shoulder
like the desires in her mind
Which Echoed like a million raindrops
through her skin and her sighs.

Her name was Scarletta.
We have spent many a nights
She was beautiful than reality.
She was someone I could never find.