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Aug 2014
losing my petals
breathing in blue topaz
with the clarity of
a freshly severed head
watching the last swallow
slice through the summer air like butter
this sad rose
wilting in an empty house
for someone who loved to kneel
you certainly
were quick to take the crown
never plucked my petals
but didn't mind
hanging me out to dry
the dust collects
a graceful twist of irony as the sadist
sweeps up the mess
filling my roots with soil and water
breathing colour back into the heaving stem
i shouldn't have kept
on living but
unnaturally, i do exist
unraveled, reformed, dethroned
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