Facial Figure

Hair—

golden-brown,

like sweet maple saps,

Brows—

recurved canoes

quivered by the anxious truth,

stop,

don’t let the negative thoughts loose

Her eyes—

deep in depth,

light mist of tears

into

more so sheets of rain

condensing on the flesh below

Yet glistening beautifully in mine line sight

And her muscles encroached

while her tears play possum in her hind sight

I only try to

get Her mind right,

yet that something still

has Her up at night,

Her lips—

coupled by those tears

like the sun light meeting night in dusk

Frown of the face like show fears

yet I believe; just breathe

let the anxiety leave,

break that smile free

Light to your beauty at dawn

no more time

to let those tears run,

hun.

Be free.

 

 

 

Belony

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Feature Image Credit: Cristian Fish