Bryan Anzo

Who You Are

Sensitive as a flower you are
Sincere to me, just like the sunshine is to the grass on a dewy morn
Words as soothing as the breath if spring
When the flowers bloom to the music of your voice
Purer than winter snow, rare as a blue rose is your heart
With a grace so lush that Venus would blush
And brush so green where your stream of love would pass
In remoteness, as if in a dream
We can live.

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