Young Mothers

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Lets venture through our childish intentions
For the last time.
Leaving no purple rock un-popped
Or flying zipper unsealed.
Walk with me through dusty oceans,
Snorting pixie dust again
As we hold on to the
last of our Rainbow sand.

Whisper fairy tales to
Yellow orchids
Before your garden
Takes its last aching breath.

Lets be innocent
For that last time
Before Reality pins an
Eviction notice behind our eyelids.

This is the Revolution, my love.
Our selfish dreams must be shed,
Merged with mutual respect for
Fire marshals and suicide bombers.
Bombard our oceans with
Crimson Regret and fireflies.

Peeling innocence from our lives.

Because now, we
Become women.





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