The gold in my ring rusts
The tears of a crocodile I trust,
In my dreams, I see the butterfly,
Sitting on my bleeding wrists,
...
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Spellbinding.........something different from ur poem.Enjoyed reading it...also felt the pain.
An enigmatic confluence of beauty, and woe...then, such is life, when you think about it, yes? ...Pictorial depiction is in feral blossom here, as you virtually place these vivid images within the nucleus of the Reader's mind's-eye. As per usual, very fine work, young lady...very fine, indeed! FjR /*\
fine poem, , , loved reading it, ,10