Haunted by the memory of the moment she left her cocoon, flapping her tiny wings, searching for nectar, I wait for her, my doors wide open.
Please return to me , I pray.
My heart has what she needs.
Plenty of it.
Oh ! I just wish she sees it.
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| Picture Credit : The Moving Quill |
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Word count : 49
Linking this to the Fiction Challenge ‘From 15 to 50′ at Shailaja's The Moving Quill.
