To pick up fairy withered flowers,
I bent. Touching my eyes to the ground,
to absorb through their roots, every last drop of salty tears.
Caressing my mouth to the soil,
to lick up every last stain of bloody agony.
[My stains]
Getting blue butterflies tangled in the knots,
of my unkept tail of hair.
And green firelies.
And red drangonladies from the field,
coated with dust and spiderwebs.
Seating on the cracked road,
by the fairy flowers,
screaming for my watery eyes.
[But the're for you]
Holding one of the dust coated lady dragons,
inside my scarred hand,
burned by the heat and desolation,
the orange sky and weeds...
growing in the middle of your heart.
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