it is not the rose’s thorn, buried deep
in your nature’s thumbprint
nor midnight’s misty mutiny, that drips
unto your earthen feet —
but the sting of loss, mirrored
in the chasms of your eyes
as you grasp Understanding
by its vulturous neck
& free yourself from torment.
Time still will heal. Miss you. 💚
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It has. Wasn’t about that. 🙂 miss you too xx
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Then I am glad, sorry for the wrong interpretation 😒 xx
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No need to say sorry… easily could have been that 🙂 xx
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