My Alexzandria

My sweet rose bud, my lovely daphodile.
The corner of my eye, the freckle of my sun.
My Alexzandria.
Thump thump beats me.
Your voice lingers in expired voice mails, long handed letters, and quietly sang secrets. Triggered by smell, your hair expells the things that clouds are made of.
Cotton, feathers, bubbles and things all for resting your head upon.
Upon my pillow your eyelashes wiggle, those lips are for placing mine on.
Face is familiar but curious am I as to what wonders you wonder inside as we wander the wonders of outside.
Blink, reveal two pennies worth more than any dime, quarter, or paper bill, silently starring gazing into what one often ponders.
Frosty glazed ponds and soften smile wearing, what boldy calm fashion these wits have acquired.
Awkward odd love notes and insignificant fights from foul mouths that still speak sweet.
My Alexzandria.





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