Molting

feathers

The feathers in your hair coming

Undone, prophecy-baring doves

Spilling from a warped halo

=

Your hands are beautiful when they

Scream, as beautiful as your eyes

Drowning, as beautiful as your

Lipstick bidding farewell to a

Mirror that ceased to reflect me

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I’ll never claim that I loved you less

In a world where you were everyone

And everything, I love you quietly still

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The breadcrumbs that I lay never

Find you and all that was invincible

At conception spoils in my heart

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