The trees sway in the strong winds today. Love is an impediment as the door goes open and closed. I feel and it is real, but my emphasis is creation. I walk up the street in my mind to be kind, but in actuality, I stay in my seat. Things seem calm and I thirst for the serene. Every scene has killed the butterfly in me and taps on the magnificent stallions today. I am here listening, but also tracking a storm. Royalty was never me. I played with GEISHA kimono when I was wee. Ghandi's elephant laundry container staired at me and looked at all who entered my dowstairs "brave cave" room. My feet were always a part of the scene, but in this day, I climb up on the shelf and become my RUSSIAN nesting dolls.
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