Wednesday, November 12, 2008

The Muse

you see her, letting the flowing fabric slide softly to the floor,

unpinning her hair and letting it tumble to her shoulders,

falling across one cheek slightly.

A goddess, a muse,

curls surround her porcelain face.

warm winds pick up, lifting the hair once let down

pulling it around in golden rings around her head.

pools of light fill her eyes, betraying her truth.

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