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Pale Moonlight

The sun’s embers shroud her,
like flames, with golden light
while playful rays of sunshine dance around
in the dim shelter of my room.
Smelling of sweet plum perfume,
her lithe figure moves smoothly
like a swan taking flight—
as she dances to the low melody of the radio.

The sun doesn’t kiss me,
graze my skin, or touch me
—and yet I long for her warmth

during the cold dark nights.
Written by Zenisith (Zweig)
Published
Author's Note
I don't know how I wrote this or what my thought process was during the writing of this poem but I do know that I was having an allergic reaction while writing this.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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