I can feel your lips upon my cheek,
your hands caressing me gently,
and my hair adorned
with white and lavender daisies.

Under the warmth of the breaching sun,
I feel free with you,
lying close 
atop and underneath this Tuscan cover
in a gold-leaf field divorced from reality
where life blooms beneath our feet.

Thank you for reading this edition of The Morning Owl. If you liked what you saw here, please leave a like, subscribe, leave a comment, and share this newsletter. Until we meet again, do take care.

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