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Almost a sonnet

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Blossoms in her hair
like stars in the night
in her eyes – unusual light;
i see her face everywhere

She lays on the ground without a care
and holds onto me tight
- my hands are shaking, i might
tell her how i feel – yet again i wouldn’t dare

Finding her love – a needle in the hay
i’m the wreath of flowers on her head
if she’s bored with it, she’ll throw it away

My limbs feel as heavy as lead,
and when she touches me, i feel fey
being in love with her – just like inert dread.