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Stems From Love

Hatred that stems from love is the last sniff of a
Dying flower.
A cloying nectar that catches on the back of a throat
Each fallen petal is a relief that everyone dies
A startling whiff of the flower’s insidious scent, fills one with disgust
A reminder that this flower was once cherished,
Placed in an elegant vase, watered everyday, a centerpiece.
But there are bugs inside the stem, the thorns are covered by shining leaves,
And love has turned sour.




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