Monday, June 22, 2015

Long Hand Haiku

She really even blossoms further
after midnight (and you
thought her beauty ended
in that dress), when
beyond her radiance,
she shines more so at night,
awash in dark and silver
beams that make-glow
dresses, crumpled on the floor,
and her, now
dressed in gilded
baptized in solitude.
And the moon.

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