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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