Her Dance, Her Song

She climbs the dizzying heights to where I buried my heart. Harvesting my words on her way, she plucks the neglected fruit and with each step, seeds my blood again. She scatters whispers and shouts of joy, and meets me

in beds of passion
with words woven, dances spun
I melt into you

when my dance is done. My feet fly me to the dizzying heights where she planted her heart. Rivers of desire stream behind me like the ribbons she once laced through my shoes, running rampant through her beautiful words. She bursts into bloom, and I dance.


Linked to Friday Fictioneers and to The Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.

Photo prompt from Friday Fictioneers by Magaly Guerrero:

PHOTO PROMPT © Magaly Guerrero

19 thoughts on “Her Dance, Her Song

  1. Oh this is absolutely gorgeously written!❤️ I love the idea of harvesting words, and oh “plucks the neglected fruit and with each step, seeds my blood again” sigh.. such mesmerizing imagery in your verse! Thank you so much for participating! ❤️

    Lots of love,
    Sanaa

    Like

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