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Liquid Dark Rose

With eyes she stares at me, from her worn stone
a marble vanity where her photograph lays
of liquid dark black rose, like a singular flower
so softly hearing rain, reaching to me with petals
cloaked in the withering moss falling the night
with a shadow of nightingale, my precious plays
fingers on my memories, liquid dark black rose.
adagio
Written by adagio
Published
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