a poem by Nakeysha Roberts Washington

Gypsies dance at dawn in the center of a rainstorm
fairies sneak between the leaves of the trees.

This is spring.

The breeze blesses my melaninated skin with sporadic kisses
fused with droplets of the universe’s tears of joy.

This is renewal.

Daydreaming, mind filled with whimsical tales.
Eyes sprinkled, now brimming with fairy dust.

This is clairvoyance.

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