Tuesday


Dried out heart.
Premature love grows in my garden full of death,
The crows cry, the crows cry, the crying crows.
Scarlet secrets, overflowing, swimming in my mind.
The crows cry, the crows cry, the crying crows.
Ruby scars remind me of the formless chaos we share.
The crows cry, the crows cry, the crying crows.


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