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Jul 2020
Tethered, you held onto me,
flame you heated in me-
subtly feeding me
more and more hope.
Today the game has died
your mouth would open wide
gaping in stark disgust-
when someone thought love was us.

Twenty-nine poems too much-
outside, I had quit after “no”-
but inside, a fledgling hope
kept fighting on.
A wish for us did survive
and the Universe urges me,
“Let that want fall asleep;”
“Please just let go.”
Coriander-- dreams of fantasy.
Written by
Acora  21/F/she/her/hers
(21/F/she/her/hers)   
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