Respite
you dance bare soled in fields of flowers with Me
... Wwe crush them, their dead scent rising to fill our senses
I chase after you with the butterflies and the slow moving turtles and the doves that fly over your head
And when I gain you, My breath is a warm chill against your cheek
.... like summer's wind ... and winter's cold
and while spring blooms and fall pauses .....
My love grows
for you ...
to you ...
with you.
(Azazel, January 2001)
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