
she woke up with yellow hair the fair maiden of morning bound to make the crows caw and the geese squawk the world waddles in with the shape shift of shadows fading away and being reborn as the moon passes them back to the sun and I sit here watching her tendrils grow as they curl about my chair I stroke the air she has warmed around me and I curl her hair as I breathe She is a welcomed guest and a good hostess for she provides me sustenance meditating on my skin nourishing me from within I nibble the things she has coaxed out of hiding with all my senses I feast
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