Rest
Her body was floppy
She was tired
as a gently nodding poppy.
Floating away.
As limp as wet clay,
and warm as the wind
at the end of the day.
Scents of cloves
rode over her clothes,
collapsed on the bed.
Riders in the wind.
The slowness of eyes
and daylight goodbyes.
The softest of blurs
in gold and red.
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