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Nov 2015
Your lips are coloured fresh---
sepia in slow motion,
downsome petals lilting
grave whispers for me.

Heliotropic eyes---
Emerald irises blossom,
Spilling funeral psalms
to lilied cheek and tongue.

From ethers to earth
your perfume traces vines
from god to sacred dirt---
where our roots entwine.
Lucid
Written by
Lucid
450
   Frankie Fuller
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