Florence
Her eyes stare straight
back into mine,
sword shimmering in the sun
making spots appear in
my eyes.
I see her earrings in the mirror:
spinning, sparkling,
sending rainbows across the walls.
Her soaked hair
long, red, and wrapped
in flowers
drips glistening droplets
into the puddle beneath my feet.
The collective past life
all reflected in the
light from the first dawn
to the last dusk.
Elizabeth Drawdy is a poet from North Carolina, currently living in Scotland. She loves writing about magical places and mythical beings and has a degree in English Literature from UNC Greensboro. She can be found on twitter @elizabethdrawdy.
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