Unicorns and metaphors

Fragile strands,
ephemeral as candy floss,
twine around my fingers
in shades of raspberry
and amaranth
as I comb my fingers
through her mane.

Her coat, in champagne pink,
reminds me of deep, expensive
shag pile carpet,
the kind you sink into,
the kind that invites you to
curl up and dream.

The sturdy sensibility of
her tapered, achromatic horn
contrasts sharply with
eyes that dance with delight
and a thousand tiny rainbows.

And as we watch each other
with wary wonder,
I am so utterly enchanted
that I miss the symbolism
altogether.

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