When I Look at me.

 

painting-frank-morrison (21)

 

 

If could remember, my hands are webbed for speed

and my spine flexible.

If could press down in the earth and accept all that is me.

Then I would know from whence I came.

Golden emeralds carved my skins.

Love breathe light in.

And -when the morning woke up – I was made.

When night kisses me, I fly.

And when sweet roses tickle my bones- I laugh.

After all- I am something dark and beautiful.

(google image- created by frank Morrison)

 

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13 thoughts on “When I Look at me.

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