Poem: Incomprehensible Pile

The sun would kiss my feet,
If I were bold enough to ask him to,
But I’m not that cruel, my love.

And I would ask you not to judge me,
For the color of my hair,
Or the tone in my voice,
But I know you will, my love.

So I’ll walk across these flames,
Tell the muses not to whisper your name,
And find myself sitting on the moon,
Singing with the stars.


About lowkiespeaks

I am a poetess, a mother-to-be, a pround woman, and stubborn beyound reason. View all posts by lowkiespeaks

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