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new notebook
May 4, 2014
I saw it first; a golden flower
rooted in your dreams (crumbling your memories)
fleshy stalk, then
veined petals, impostors—
no more the sun than
I am the moon.
I watched as your skull
fractured, and broke
under the weight
of another life.
© Carollynn G., Hawthorne, NY
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