Heavenly Song.

A woman is an unwritten poem

words and emotions

Sprawled on the beautiful emptiness.

She is the second drop of rain, the seedling that peeks from soil

A fading dream wrapped inside a cover of skin and ink

or a

muse with no artist.

Her breast bear the secrets of sunrise

and lips speak the moon’s language.

She seeks tomorrow, crouching behind the shadow of her pen.


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