deepundergroundpoetry.com
not forgotten
dear love, of weighted time
I felt you upon a winged vine
my eyes, squinted upon the rays
as a butterfly vanished the days
shivering, filled with cold-chill
the vision wrapped me warm-still
upon the glass, memories blush
as the breeze whispered hush
your portrait, fluttering in lights
brushed color to our mural of midnights
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