It’s flowering today on the breeze

pale purple with a delicate scent;

Silk petals that bruise like my skin-


The beauty of the mist is fragile,

easily fading into soreness.

earth receives no letter from myself.


Simplicity beckons the chasm

of dichotomy within the heart.

It’s artful to see the light and dark.


This poem is about: 
Our world


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