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break up poem

she said
the darkness steals the forms of all the queens
the smell of the rose so false, the thorns so true
with the meek, brown eyes
do you remember
behold me, in my chiffon, gauze and tinsel
the swan existing
risen from the dead
when i looked into your eyes
therefore i may not
within my hand i hold
i had over-prepared the event

 



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