an original.

Girl in the White Dress

I met a girl at a well.
She had on muddy converse that were worn to the sole.
I watched her as she tried to paint the Sky,
in hues of apricot & eggshell

staying inside the lines and the bounds of nature,

delicately stroking the horizon.
Her hands meticulously cupped each cloud,

cradling the cotton candy and twisting it in place.

I met a girl at a well.
She had on muddy converse that were worn to the soul.
And I could see the Breeze move through her,
entitled to her open skin

like an angel’s breath.

But I couldn’t exhale
her eyes danced as I slowly approached

And the deep opals captured me in her gaze.

I once met a girl at a well.
Her skin told a story in the Wind

I never caught her name yet I knew her story

Stainless white dress

I never caught her name but I remember the taste of the air