When the colors
Fluid, flowing
Cross the heavens
Spilling, going
When the mountains
Stain the sun, and
The daylight comes undone
Then my heart
Is free in delight
Glad for sapphires
Pinned up at
Night.
YOU ARE READING
Prickmedainty Poetry
PoetryFor all those who broke their glass slipper and still search for stars in the shards.
