i hid from you all.

Lucy's Works and Co

littlest rain
it was not dead
or the moon with her eyes
the perfume
asleep, having flowers to cease
as i now subsume tragedy
beyond the wisp of her lips
stillness yet adorns to me
her eyes of stone.

in the garden wore
a death of bliss
perpetuare suffering

 © 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.

Reposted for the dVerse 6/24/2021 Open Link Night (OLN).

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