Hydrangeas against
a crestfallen sky are
Your bruises
where they touched
You and made You bleed
salt-ichor.
Blossoms roughen
on the branch
in all loveliness.
Dusk: A Poem
Updated: May 1, 2020
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Updated: May 1, 2020
Hydrangeas against
a crestfallen sky are
Your bruises
where they touched
You and made You bleed
salt-ichor.
Blossoms roughen
on the branch
in all loveliness.
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