xviii. color

69 21 6
                                    

She was a bird of paradise.
Her wings were a painting
Against a watercolor sky—
She was never yours.
She belonged to the Earth.
She was supposed to fly—
Yet you stole her
From the trees—from her home
And ripped off her feathers
Because she was too beautiful
For you to allow her freedom.  

the impuritiesWhere stories live. Discover now