I met a woman today.
She didn’t have your freckles
that could dot the night sky
but her skin radiated a warmth
and glow
that you could only find in the sun.
She didn’t have your brown eyes
that looked like sage
after a sudden downpour
but you could see the clouds
in hers
and silver linings lined her iris
like flecks of pearl.
She didn’t have your chocolate hair
and it lacked the wildness
I loved so much about yours,
but hers made me believe
I was watching sunbeams
pierce the heavens
in the most brilliant sunrise.
Her laugh didn’t sound like the ocean
breaking against wind-beaten
but reminded me more
of a soft breeze,
blowing gently through
the treetops.
Perhaps I had given you too much credit.
I wrote you out to be this incredible
force of nature.
A hurricane of a woman.
But truthfully,
you were just a broken girl
breaking others
because someone
had broken you.

A fickle thing the moon, calling to the darkness.


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