Mingling with winged passers by,
sharing song in whispering winds;

pastel hellos in pink and blue
wave in symmetry; skirt-blown conversations
dipped and tickled by wildflower afternoons
that nothing but a hush at dusk can calm.

Too cool for summer as souls lock eyes
and the stars are never the same.

Like firefly serenades,
twinkle is all in the flow of lashes
when love saunters in
and tulips are more than flowers with petals
that dance quietly
until grip loosens, smile fades,
and your head falls softly in my lap;

fingers running through warmth
which only comes from trust
that gentle spirits bring;

dreams silently beaming,
the secret of twin flames.



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