she’s the spark of fire
that warms your soul and lights your way home.
her blood stains the clouds red
warning you of the incoming storm.
At high noon,
her passion, flash flooding,
washes you out into her ocean.
recovering deep breaths,
clutching you close to keep you afloat.
After a failed Sestina, I settled for a Parallelogram de Crystalline which came out a lot easier. Four stanzas, three lines each with the syllable pattern 3, 6, 9.
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