The crescent moon looked down
Subtle and angry, but not so timid as I
She glared like a mother falcon soaring past
Eyes digging into my back
As a field mouse scurrying by in the tall swaying grass
Her might and drive
Ever so much overshadowing mine
She heard my heart skip
Several beats like a cheetah
Changing course in the essence of its prime
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
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20091022 (18:48)
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