As the clouds rolled in, she broke hearts for desire. Maybe it was the measure of her elegant fingers. Or that her heart was on fire. Dusk was her favorite color. And mist was her favorite scent.
Chivalry isn’t dead.
Tulips close, eyes recede. Moments draw to ends too quickly.
She gave him a kiss and she meant it.
Her story began, flawed, and so it goes.
In her ocean, she whips and flows,
so it goes, so it goes