Free-floating on the rose water of sleep
Like duckweed, and like it I feel lines traced through
Roused from slumber I look up to see
Startled eyes in the darkness and a halo of light hair
Yanked down by their own golden tress
Velvet and silk splashed as they sunk between pillows
Being of the divine and absolute loyalty
Yet sneaks like a thief and willingly, gladly drowns
Such curiosity is of the mortals, of flesh,
Yet wandering ichor hands now cover a shameful face

…

A. R. Tivadar is a hobby writer from Romania and a graduate of the University of Oradea. She has been published in The Alien Buddha Press, miniMAG, Motus Audax Press, RIC Journal, Low Hanging Fruit and 13 other online literary magazines.
instagram: @a.r.tivadar
bluesky: @artivadar
linktree: /ARTivadar
artivadar.neocities.org