My love is woven like a crown,
Made from the daisies under your
Honey coloured hair, a sweetness
that drips between the fingers
Tell me you can hear it too
The singing of the sun, shining
Through honey coloured strands
and green leaves that bow
Under the weight of their devotion
For the girl with the hair of honey
YOU ARE READING
Preservation
PoetryPoetry Collection on preservering in love, sorrow, trauma, and desire
