• Vol. 01
  • Chapter 02
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I carve you a flower
with this same knife
that cut my name
into the wall.

I miss your willowing white
just a touch of blush
veining through by the warmth
of soil.

Bedded and wafting to silent words
your purity unfolded, seeking into the blue
to taste the first drop of rain.

Content to feed at the sun's count
and sleep with the moon.