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A BLUE ROSE

The sky
is a blue rose,
and her
tears tramp down
her mountainsides
like drifting snow.
The
Cold
invigorates me.
My blood flows
too.
My loved one’s tears rendezvous
with my blood
and meld
into the river
to the
South.
Its currents
are her petals.
Her blue is
more intense
than the heat of
the red light of the
Life-giving
Sun.
Or the yellow.
Or the white
Of Life itself.
A
Blue
Rose.
Imagine it.
See it.
A
Blue
Rose.


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