love song

Buttercup

I held a yellow flower
underneath her chin
and the merrie sunlight
danced upon her skin
buttercupping patterns
to which I lost my soul
upon the smiling glances
which lit her face as gold

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In Whispers

In whispers find we revelations
perplexing those who fail to hear
between the quiet evocations
hide sighs which land on lov’ed ears.

And of those secrets left unspoken
in breaths which gently stroke the skin
are vows that will not yet be broken
by silent souls who dwell within.