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I was once
Your rose,
Lap of bloom,
As we laid
In the meadows,
Water beading
On petals,
Your breaths
Opening
My flower.

And rains
Linked down
From heaven
Into the cup
Of my love,
Held on a stem,
You grew
Into the sky
And I fell,
Frail, deeper
Than you,
Yet higher we
Climbed,
With thorns
Under bud.

We came to
Shudder in light,
To see dawning
Destroyed, move,
Into mold days,
We past, grew,
Such flung scent,
Fragile beauties,
By burnish blush
Of faded bloom.
 May 2016 Zenab Rehman
Rapunzoll
i raised her
with a violent birth
my vocal cords tangled
like a drunk couple
making love
with her name.

she emerged from
the slit in men's throats,
a grown woman,
her sister followed,
from suffocated coughs,
glowing like streetlamps
from mouth to mouth,
never happy,
never settled.

girls like her,
they don't enter this
world easy,
they leave it in a mess,
exit it like a highway,
move on to the
next place.

there's a stain they
always leave,
yellow on the teeth,
marks on bed-sheets,
empty rings on
bedsides with last
nights drink
gone cold just like
their feelings.

just a girl they say,
harmless,
girls have endless love
in their hearts,
and endless hate.
© copyright
There once was a meadow
It made me feel mellow
So I said hello,
From the other side.
The side of darkness and despair
The carcass of a dead hare
I never used to care
About the the flowers that were there
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