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Click herethat, I might be
the ground which you stand upon
bare to your soul kiss to your feet
loam to embrace the seed of your beauty
as falls, that so may tears you weep
and of that field
brilliant, as the stars in ever swirling constellation tilled the sky
reaped change, no thing does ever last
nor truly ever die
come to pass, the day, your lips divine the latent in my breast
last seen, tailed ragged rage and sorrow – as blood let to the night
that, you might be
The rhythm and swoon of the word choice is just great. And some of the metaphor brings a smile to my face because of how unique the comparisons are. Great job. I'll look for more of your stuff.