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by ddavidd Apr 4, 2025 category : Miscellaneous / Misc. poems
A tear has an existence of its own— salted from deep seas, sweet as the blush of your cheek, an uphill rosary of blooming beads. Clear as the stillness of mirrors, deeper than oceans— the syrup of the soul, lacerating from the scratch of apparitions, a magical transformation of darkness into spring.