Submitted for #vss365 prompt word: plume.

Her imagination: a magical loom
weaving herself an iridescent costume
with wings to fly far from her cage, her old room.
Now her voice is like a bewitching perfume.
She sits amongst the stars, a flower in bloom,
and she left behind a gift; an angel’s plume. 

Written by Jungle.
(C) 2021, all rights reserved.

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