gentle

the rain must have sprinted down

yet above the consequential rising mist
is an empty open sky moonlight night
and horizon just once cloud mountains
dark and highlit in gentle silver black

like seeing the stars through fine girl hair
when you're sitting alone outside night talking
on an unseen bench in the summer dark heat
away from the far heard strong celebration
with a fresh wind carrying her feminine smell
and the gentle hush of her speak

image: poem

2K0:2

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image: set Hear





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