Andrew David Dalby
Her delicate kiss
As I slowly lift my head to face the sky,
I feel the warmth of the summer rain,
Slowly kiss open my swollen eyes;
And in the midst of their fall,
A sound... delicate...
Made from the curl of an angels wing,
Gently echo's within my soul.
Slowly, it strokes the back of my neck,
To bring alive a shudder,
Like stone ice down my spine.
Now... I know that I am truly alive!
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