And every time the damned weather played,
It plucked a scarlet fibre from her pallid frame.
Her eyes would sink deep into her puny cheeks,
And her limpid palms would lose some fine lines,
But, like she always believed,
-the more you desiccate, more visible you were to the world.
Beautiful post !
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Thank you for stopping by 🙂
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☺
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