Wordle #77

Week 77

The potency of your apothegms

Drapes my darkness in regalia.

I grope your hazel eyes

In a mutually appreciative gaze.

I am tatterdemalion,

A leopardess in a nun’s habit.

I am alone in a room

Full of sidling,

Skull-faced strangers.

Elixirs of light, prisms of sound

You are my luminary

The swell of azure

Under a cavalcade of stars.


This Wordle was tough