*for brownin'*
you've proven
that while you are no hothouse flower,
your bloom rises
only to greet the sincere.
love doesn't walk the way of the weak
into your garden
which explains just how sacred
that hidden country you call your trust is.
i've said that
summer sunsets could learn a thing or two
from the gleam just above your chin
which only deepens your cheeks' scarlet hue.
this is one precious thing
being in your company one should remember
you alone have the gift
that makes delicate flowers blush in December.
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