Muse, A WIP
I wonder as the sunny slivers shadow her gaze, and leave a strawberry-slush blush on her face, how those mint green tips are miles away. o, what locks hide the map to her maze? When she looks over her charcoal brushed brows She could get me diving in Hikka And surfing in Hiri so as I am lost in the; lustre of her murmuring lips, laughter in her cinnamon eyes do our thoughts align my friend, are those the eyes that net me? As you turn over a new golden leaf And I sip on some spice chai, I continue weaving my woes:
