𝘊𝘐𝘕𝘕𝘈𝘔𝘖𝘕 𝘚𝘖𝘜𝘓

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Starry eyes with messy raven hair
A portal to a cinnamon soul
Owns thousands, millions of pages
Each outlined with a unique pattern of nature
What a fortune it would be to read at least half of it?

Her footsteps would never hurt a rose petal
As she walks by, spreading around
The fragrance of her cinnamon soul
She's an artist of nature, and for me,
She's the art I'd write about for eternity

Just like Poetry on canvas
And Art on paper.

A/N: "Are we falling like snow on the beach? Weird but fucking beautiful"

A/N: "Are we falling like snow on the beach? Weird but fucking beautiful"

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𝙎𝙤𝙪𝙡 𝙁𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨 | PoetryWhere stories live. Discover now