she wakes
and her eyes
hold fables
of black forests
and blue skies
of desolate moors
and of endless plains
that I could travel
to where she dreams
before
she wakes.
she wakes
and her eyes
hold fables
of black forests
and blue skies
of desolate moors
and of endless plains
that I could travel
to where she dreams
before
she wakes.
Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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lovely 💖
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