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The Withered Rose
In my hand is the most colorful:
Magenta, pink, yellow, golden, brown, and
Many other unnamed
Out of this once scarlet body
Now all the colors
Interwoven together
Upon the calling of Departure
I lay her down on the ground.
No vases (my hand is simply another one) can be open enough
To hold her beauty and something called
Life and Death.
07/17/2006
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