• Vol. 06
  • Chapter 08
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When I’m Gone

Tendril me on the lattice
outside your study window.

Let me vine, cling, stretch,
rippled by your wind song,
cooled by the breath of words.

Tendril me in blank verse
through azure, crimson hues
with bold black strokes.

Let me sway, dip, float
on the assonance
of near rhymes,

breathe between
in the empty spaces
where thoughts pause.

Ivy me in arcane,
ripe, nascent words.

Spirit me with images —
thin tapered lines,
rounded globes,
geometric wonders.

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