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Jul 2018
My heart is whole
but it has sharp edges.
It got wet on my sleeve;
now, it hangs from my necklace

-round like a pendant; hurt hangs
round my neck with a vengeance:
like a lighthouse on a dark night,
blinding sailors- offensive.

It draws them in like a siren's call,
but the sky bleeds red at the first sign of morning.
The captain is certain he'll lock land at dawn,
but does any type of siren sing its song without a warning?
Red sky in the morning, sailor's warning; red sky at night, sailor's delight.
sara
Written by
sara  20/uk
(20/uk)   
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