"why are the
clouds white?"
she asks me
from the edge of the pillow
her gentle curls
play upon the
crisp linens
her blue eyes flicker
"clouds are
white because,"
i tell her
as they start to well up
though i may
see another
spring day in
such brilliant rain-soaked skies
"they hold every
shade they find."
she sighs
and the feeling was mutual















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