Friday, August 9, 2013

Project your personality
Upon my poetry
Suits me
Impose as you please
for I have none
I have passed on
permanently

Perhaps you prefer
I write nothing
Improve you could
Perfection impaired
I persist
You were not here
I missed your perfume

Do you plead
that a blossom improve
Its petals
appear in their moment
A pressure divine
shall push them
The bud bursts first


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