perhaps her lips
her parched longing
is to quench her thirst
for light, like
a deserted darkness the sun
finds a place to rest upon.
tendrils of a star are
fingers teasing
enticing what's inside her
to come try a similar
glimmer. at a glance she
kisses her sunbeam kisses.
perhaps she finds she
is not thirsty, merely
recalling her heart's
solar foliage.
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