My heart was your loom
The delicate weaving
Of many thrumming threads
A web of silken lies
Desire deeply etched
Upon our intertwined souls
Sweet promises in disguise
In time gently unravelling
Like soft fragrant petals
Opening to the sun
Unaware of the darkness
Waiting in the shadows
And the cold cruel winds
That stalked our perfect skies
© Ann Bagnall

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