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Then,

Rose: takes water and gives back not a thing
Save for the air and beauty divinest
Soothing latter, former overlooked fling
What’s consumed is returned by the finest
Yet is such flower worth much space and time?
What thee owns could quite harbor another
She is beautiful but sour like lime
My rose, humans to plants are close brothers
So too Myiah, thou were a rose to me
First giving love (air is tangible not)
but False! with such passion I watered thee
to pull two Lover’s cape, to see Love rot
Thine insecurity twice--thrice marred it:
There once was a rose, picked and discarded



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