Lisa’s Song
Sky blue is a color I describe, two and one are the numbers she abides by.

Little sighs, a scarlet tune, her eyes are like the pale white moon.

I never would do anything to you, their won’t be an addition past loving two.

Holding you in a space of marble pink, it doesn’t mean I’ve lost the ability to humbly think.

Flowers sprout easier in this growing sunlight, even in the dark, petals glow past a fading night.

Her touch breathes life like the unseen air, colored strands of her distinctive hair.

Dear Lisa do you think I love you?

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