Holy as love.

You were my Winter prayer, my Christmas miracle.
We found a safe place to keep warm, we locked the door, held tightly and stole seconds, hours and nights away,
We didn’t know, borrow kisses and pretty words, almost, as holy as love.
Old poet wished on the first star of the night, near the sea. A moment, of forever. So damn sweet. He wish to know again.
Just one more dance, just one more sweet kiss from his Bonnie gal, and make him believe. Love never can die and the pretty girl are miracles and Winter blessings.

Holy as love, she was.

                       Dancing Coyote