Literature
lily
at cliff edge my darling dances, tiptoes and windswept honey-gold hair. i say, 'my sweet come to daddy, come here princess, you're scaring me.' but that roar of wind is so loud in her ears she sways and looks upon me a moment like i've been only quiet admiring, never calling. she laps in the taste of salty-wave and sand, and she is magic in all her softness. but she is so close and one toe pushes rock downledge and i'm running, oh dear me, i'm running for my darling on the sea cliff, i'm running and i'm all love for her. for her who is me in those eyes and lips, who is me in those smiles. i'm running and she's stopped, standing with her littl