Poetry

Mimosa Pudica

Sitting In Front Of the Mirror,
With Gleaming Eyes, She Glares
At Herself with the Pride
That Would Demean the Princess
Of The Greatest Kingdom.

She Won’t Take Anyone To
Grade Her for the Inkling
Of It Would Never Be Enough
To Touch the Essence
Of Her Splendor.

Her Charm and the Shine
Augment To the Extent Of
Overspill When He Steals a Look
When Their Paths Cross
At The Seam.
She Huddles, and Cuddles Herself;
Rosy Cheeks, Trembling Eyes.
Oh, She’s Mimosa Pudica.


Photo Credit: Hans

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