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220 · 1d
droughts
We had both worked out
we each deserve the blame,
for the love that diminished
carving in trees in our names.
Our little bark masterpieces
Little deep sculptures fading,
& our love keep perishing
like the strongest of droughts.
If all we had so great ***
but the devil numbed the pillow talk,
Our love was tangled in webs
Scribbled out by the chalk.

Our pleasantries became repetitive
unlike the spark when we first meet
And a kiss on the cheek was a given,
No passion that was never driven.

— The End —