The day you learned that everything must end
in love, your heart began to sprout its wings;
the pain tremendous, reciprocity
a demon slain, with hissing hair of snakes
glimpsed in the mirror of a sword and turned
to stone, a bleeding rhythm to your pulse,
veins oozing syrup on the bark, you gush
away your karma. So the solitude
has left you: dessicated, sweet, and whole.
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