Monday, April 11, 2016

NaPoWriMo 2016 #11

Rains bide their illusory pact with tidal chains ... the moon commands to quench the parch pink softness of petals ... praying in silent destinations dust originated from ... and will scurry back to ... when shown buds in dire need ... of a morning shower ... even a thunderous violent storm ... carrying enough atmosphere the weather vein turns ... South in shy exclamation ... I am thirsty, nay hungry, for your mouth ... for the experience of knowing you.

© 2016 cdd All Right Reserved

Photo Credit © 2016 cdd All Rights Reserved

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