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Oct 2014
Will you be there when the sun paints a canvas of green?
Envelopes of colour closing in around my body,
A forgotten art form.A broken sculpture.
Wrap me up in a blanket of cellophane
And eat me like an evergreen bathes in gold.
Your seasonal fruit between bitten lips red
But when the leaves envy dances into passion
I wonder if we will be there to see it change.
OliviaAutumn
Written by
OliviaAutumn
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