Thorns

“We started dying before the snow, and like the snow, we continued to fall.” — Louise Erdrich, Tracks

Untitled

Pulling apart petals

Gently at first

Until handfuls are no longer enough

To mask the pain

From thorns

Pressed away

To preserve

For eternities to come

Until the meanings

Disintegrate upon the slightest touch

Leaving a sole illusion

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