march : 29th.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
cinnamon tresses fall softly across her rubicund cheeks ─ framing a face resembling the full moon on a crisp winter night.
a ghost of a smile so crescent on her carnation lips ─ signifying a bleeding heart with angel wings.
she ambles down the aeons old dirt-track, jewel twigs and gold leaves adorning the verges ─ bearing the forest greens.
the bunch of lavender chrysanthemums grace the valley of her waist ─ as she caresses their delicate petals.
and the wilderness awaits, not to devour but to bow down at her careworn feet ─ yet strong enough to withstand the raging storm ─ for she is the queen.
── royalty.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
a/n : i am just scribbling. *sigh*
YOU ARE READING
paracosm | ✓
Poetrybut you see, there is a graveyard in my mouth, filled with words that have died on my lips. © 2020 mia ruby jane | all rights reserved [ a poetry collection ]
