luxuriantly like sin

Standard

Menace
Katica Kulavkova
Understand me
I can no longer
create you
heal you
with postage stamps
you shall no longer
roam about
I wish
to believe

the moths
are eating
the addresses
within me
Intimately
some icebergs
are melting
and bitterly
the shadow
of time

is falling
when vines
and urges
are pruned
but the plant
flourishes
luxuriantly
like sin

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