If You Could
Could you knock
against my chest
and tell me
if it sounds Hollow?
Hold my tongue
and feed me soil?
Else, what can
root here?
What can grow
in emptiness?
“I have lost my dewdrops!” Cries the flower to the morning sky that has just lost all its stars... All bleeding stops eventually. I am but a collection of particles, atoms that chose to suffer in unison.
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