Your lavender dress flutters in the wind;
Leaving your scent, your goodbye.
Your fingernails of a Thulian hue,
splintered from clinging on to a shadow.
Tea rose-stained eyes, a magenta glow
And a spurious smile could not undo
The hurt of a carmine-sunset lie.
Your lavender dress flutters in the wind.
I won't get tired reading this poem, P're. :)
ReplyDeleteThank you, P're. Your wonderful compliment is much appreciated.
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