Her Mood

Her mood

Sometimes,
when she comes,
Smells like rain her skin…
Her eyes
are drops of life
You want
to mingle into.
She gives
a lonely walk
toward nowhere;
With the wind
hanging in her hair.
Soft lips
sketching a mysterious smile…

She wants to be like this,
And I shadow her
with my mind
everywhere she steps,
With her head held in the air,
she’s not pretending to be
someone she is not

She is all I’ve got!

by Harthman Carpio Munteanu

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