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May 2023
I will die with dignity.
Beauty, you cut me crisply. I
stand on the bank. Shiner swims.

Pinned to flowers like
butterflies for colorful unearthing, when
you are never too old to ****.

I was hit in the garden.
My roses bleed. The moon, my
lover, hesitates to open wounds.
Written by
Satsih Verma
129
   Healer and Nylee
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