Blue, brown, and white.
A light laugh and a song.
Her hands are the dance of this steam.
Her eyes are lit birds.
Her neck is draped satin.
Her voice is a softly touched sweater.
It comforts me.
I love her
Because I was given to her.
Because she turned herself.
Because she's home and wonder,
Rest and sprint.
Because she's.
And she's.
And she's.
She's pure purple, shoulder-strong.
Her speech up-summons a world.
Hands like the earth: earth wearing fruits.
And her eyes are all of the waves.
Her neck, the great beam from the sun down.
Her voice, a clean home with a tree by.
I rest in it and find her,
And find her,
And find her.
I rest in it and find her,
My lovely,
My rest.