The Strings Of My Guitar
The strings of my guitar are like
Your hair entangled in mine,
Your skin amalgamated in my heart,
The rays of sun touching the earth.
A picture hung on my wall is like
A necklace upon your cleavage,
A rhinestone engraved in your skin,
Ink upon a blank page.
Clothes that hang on my closet are like
Dew drops on the brim of my pinafore,
Shoes etched to your foot,
Crystals in the drops of water.
Feathers on a bird are like
Stories that go on in my spirit,
A jargon carved of daisies,
Lives leaning onto an ethereal rendezvous.
And if you ask me what I am,
I am a ray of sun touching the earth,
Ink upon a blank page,
A drop of dew on your pinafore,
And a story that lingers in your spirit.
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