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Poetry

A Fine Rose

I will craft this scar into a fine rose.

Soft pink and berry, Mum,

like the sweet child I was to you.

Take this rose

carefully,

softly,

sweetly, remembering home.

I have been afraid

because of you,

and yet

because of you

love has broken me open;

I shine our memory into the world

like a moonlit day.

Take this rose

carefully,

softly,

sweetly,

for I am still afraid

I will craft this fine rose into a scar.

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