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Come Into My Arms

come into my arms on a high-tide of tears
birds are dripping in ink not rain
I keep faith to plant the vineyard
where you are every vine

flowering of the feminine, flowing with wine
and inside your head is the nightsky of stars
of course the lover imagines the lover
walking in colours of swirling leaves
roseate at dusk amidst naked trees
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Wednesday, August 26, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: love
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6/22/2021 3:36:32 PM # 1.0.0.632