love grows by Imani Tolliver
Lullaby of Spring
You hate me.
My soft rays
and my breezes
only caress the surface
of your face.
My useless flowers
do not quell your hunger.
You miss her
whose powerful gale
sways the trees
and stirs the rivers
the music of her hail
falling like knife-blades
into the soft belly
of the night.
Inner/outer melody, love the last four lines, do advise caution with using ss words lest you cancel the best--or trouble it. So much growth in your aesthetics!
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