Behind the wide-eyed chiselled face
The wings I couldn't see
The words she spoke were wisdom
Devoid of vanity
I liked the way she laughed and wondered
At every nuance made
The way she studied every sentence
My senses full pervade
I looked out for her notes
And happy morning quotes
Wondering if her day was blest
Her nights were satin prest?
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© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago
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