Grace

Grace I have been cast in silver Cosmic snows and african winds.

Emerald fires in my eyes Noon is in the skies.

All pine for prince charming and I found those trees on the French Riviera.

A jewel now to beset my own.

Dresses have hung from my hips like men, flowers have grown themselves around my ankles.

I am never anchored, no roots keep me when royal thieves rob me away to castles.

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