Hidden is the gift the night gives
A sprite a spirit kindred.
It was the stars from which she slid
A glimpse of the intrepid
Call it feeling, intuition,
Tingly shakes I could not shed.
We listened and shared narratives
Like two stumbly bumbly squids
On connection we swam and lived
Intersecting pro quo quid.
We both bid on indecision,
No one hurt us as much as our empathy did.
No comments:
Post a Comment