Thursday


Mowing my Heart Lawn.

As flowers grow through my soul,
The blue bird sings me to my death.
Beautiful as a bee, humble like a man.
The light is all we have to cherish.
Love more than loved, and you will see.
Open Water River from my heart to yours.
Land in a pool of love, only to shake it off.
Branches brush my thigh, even fish have to die.

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