Brown dirt
damp and rich
Matches her downturned eyes
Plum purple kisses her lips
Like dark violets
bloom in late winter
Her hair grows like a vine
spun out and intertwined
In the Spring she sings like a Nightingale
She sways like the limbs of a tree
Green with envy,
Willows cry for her
She is more alive than water is prolific
She is freedom in human form
Conversing with the moon
like an old friend over tea
When she cries her eyes are clouds
Sobs fall from her mouth
like leaves dropping in Autumn
My love is a biophilic
Her body is a raging river
winding and temperamental
but a soothing comfort at night
About the Creator
Jessi
Writer on the Oregon coast. Lover of nature, poetry, and coffee! I love to write about my travels, lovers + mental health. Thanks for your support! Feel free to browse, share, and comment away. :)
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