
It Started with a Word
- Bev Flynn
- Apr 9, 2021
- 1 min read
When feelings are connatural
inborn to the soul
the heart replies to sunsets
in marigold pulses,
splashed down walls
We crave these veins of a perfect love
with string, that binds our ties
when the white of moonlight frays
we tear .. in life's divide
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