A happy piece!
~*~A Morning of Pale Spring~*~
You stand in the eastern window still bearing winter's doleful frost the steely blanket of your hair speaks to me of distance and fruitless kneeling. I could climb an endless stair up to your threshold, my clothes snagging on random stars my knees grazing unmoved planets and still you would elude me like a joybeam shimmering in a frantic streamlet that a childish hand would chill in pursuit. So I wait, clenched in watching for the first peeping blossoms, wondering if perhaps they have spread their maiden lace already only to be betrayed by a rude and choking freeze.
But now we stand together two orphans at discovery's door the bonfire of our sorrows smoldering in a forgotten ditch. Your fingers twine about my own like trusting vines that seek the hidden remedies of growth their softness weaves a clean dream a lifting and a holiday and promises of waterfall joy as the earth rumbles faintly in the lap of singing morning hungering for the healthful seeds of lovers who well know the warm importance of thaw.
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