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Echolocating - please find my love
Under the shrubs
Or stored

under the cupboard

Deep in the cool cellar
Buried under the earth

Blue bleeding hearts
Clinking in
black beakers

My love is significant
Perhaps even
Beating in the heart

Of my beautiful infant

But among the rosebuds
The bushes unkempt
Thorns ***** my soft edges
And empty my
glass cup

Frail exposure -
an unsettling scent -
Sweetness are the red roses
Blooming just to be clipped
Broken shadows cut
against the corridors

A hand extends up
poetic, delicate, curved

She is leaning against
rigidity, structure, ancient

history, poised like
swans linking necks

In solidarity and confinement
a thin layer of water

is disrupted
by the pitter and patter of children’s

Arms extended out

to catch the wind,
disappearing into the steam

— The End —