Wednesday, June 6, 2012


across your face,
beneath your chin
and framing that
most wicked grin
and everywhere
it leads from there
oh, how I love so much your hair


Sets across the mountains here
overlooks the place I played
and all that I hold dear
in the color emblazoned against pink skies
it sets across that roof
and stains inside my eyes
in whispering tendrils a cloud
seems to hush the evening woods
and in silence loud
we greet the night

By Elizabeth Azpurua

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