Feathers of morning

Ocean salt the roses, crusts pinkly,
sun crack the sky,
cream of the horizon,
easy fog of breakfeast,
brush feathers of morning,
lace of notes bathed,
snapping like hairs,
curling like snails up into the stomach.
Then dusk,
a fire spread, break open...
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Feathers of morning

Stian Gledje Bekkvik

Stian Gledje Bekkvik

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