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Poems
Sep 2023
B
Crimson rivers ran on my skin
And within, an ache
Resembled the itch of death
I had met in passing
Weeping in shadows
I locked the door and
When I called his name
He was delivered into my hands
He was the springtime
You felt inside of me
Born to autumn
His father's favorite season
History: Baldr and the Misteltoe
#autumn
#loss
#miscarriage
#sorrow
Written by
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26/F/United States
(26/F/United States)
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