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the blush of autumn  

 


the blush of autumn
will soon turn into
the scars of
winter

the vineyards are
cold and without
love or
mercy

how little time
we have

mayflies caught
in the eye of a
hurricane

even the sharpest
swords lose their
edge

temperament
loses its
heat,

and fuck Bacchus,

his wine is
overrated.







 
Written by buddhakitty
Published
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