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Waltz

intertwine 
like the vine inside your soul 
constrictor of a wordless air 
protector of a rhythm 
the thorns will sting through silence 
but roses color red the roar 
you harbor in your eyes 

revolutionize 
your impressionistic flag 
concealer of a darker hue 
defender of my ecstasy 
life moves like a rainstorm 
in the world of thick brushstrokes 
where you have made your home 

despise 
grows when your feet leave off 
meter marked by blooms 
reminder of the triple time 
that heaved beneath our chests 
one two three—now gone from me 
but you still know the steps



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