Winter's True Warmth

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She walked until her elevation matched that of the thick unending clouds responsible for the holding her gaze
and daintily extending her milk colored arms to greet the flowing complexion of blues and pinks.
They soaked into her pores like a shower of forgiveness,
cleansing her every inch.
Picking up every pigment hidden in her black dress and poring out through the fringes into a silk rainbow
and though she walks as though the ground were beneath her,
no footprints lingered for her smile still remains

and there were melodic winds of unearthly talented that wrapped around her head and clung to each strand of her ebbing golden hair,
they pulled her towards her hearts desire,
deeper in where the sun does awake and branch her rays

shades of pink and swirls of green; all the colors seeped from their three dimensional barriers to marry as a beautiful memory she'd been dreaming of for years.
And it was then she became blinded,
but in the event that a butterfly should lightly brush her hand,
she would be freed the confines of all her bones
as they may shatter with the winds and wings of an angel might appear

and all she lacked in sight would be regained in her aloft state of freedom
For she had found the true gift of peace herself.
The sensation felt only by those
curious enough to surpass the linings of simplicities
And behold their unseen possibilities with acknowledgment such as hers.





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