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Cherry Blossoms

Sinful. Your lack
of poetry –

You. Becoming hollow.

I see it coming
every
Wednesday –

you become something –

like ancient
ruins.

like peach trees
reflecting

in your eyes.

As though your skin
swallowed

sunrise
and the stars

as though
you deserved something,

as though
your hollowness

reflected her –

broken sunrise.

Published inBlogging & PoemsMy Poems

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