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Aug 2013
I left

because I had to

prove it to

myself-



but I see

my reflection

in your

face, a landside.



clover from

lawns

torn with grass

and all



tied to your

wrist-

the delicate

jewelry.



pointing at

the jar

I say, this

is where honey comes from.



(I’ll never

leave you.)
yokomolotov
Written by
yokomolotov
2.6k
 
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