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there was once a tree
who refused to let go of its leaves.

there was once a tree
who tried to hold its leaves.

but when the time comes,
when the leaves wither.

there is nothing the tree can do but


to see its leaves
slowly falling down
from its branches.*

©IGMS
 May 2017 Denise Writes
NV
may i always write words more naked than flesh,
more stronger than bone,
more sensitive than nerve.
may i always dip my finger into rivers of ink that will never run dry.
on the days i am not an ocean or a shipwreck,
may i always become an anchor.
may i understand that somedays words are a bridge,
and others are the fire that burns them.
that sometimes i write the words,
and that sometimes the words write me.

— The End —