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Gardenia's Bloom Your hair by the sea blew gardenia-scented drawing from me sudden breath in light summer-hued. Images replay; I am shuddering; Chalk-board mind screeching, soul freezing cacophonies waving mid-air. I am grainy sand sifting. My best then slipped away; a petal in the gardenia bloom you wore that day; "audieu." We should have sailed together Spring or Summer wed we planned to spend the holidays Wintering; but Fall we did onto the ruins of Trust, sad flowers plucked, seasons grayed into cold night marched to the precipice; heartache shrouded; I crushed flower shattered you tragic bound we both left behind wounds unhealed memories consigned to the wailing room shut away on misty shelves upon grief-laden doilies hoping one day both would depart sweeping out crevaces in hearts entombed perhaps released back in time to Lovingness cuts healed from time refreshed. But no. Time alone did not erase. Pain is Comtemplation's Grace which ultimately uplifed us from dusty mists, drew us here to the same place hearts to retrace and test wounds and gardenia scents; hesitancy now embraced; wounds unstaked; we begin to danced here once again, memories' waltz in the magical air and light forced by circumstance to retrace love's glance holding hands we renew as if it were only yesterday. I said I love you and I do having cleaned out my doily-shelf now dusty, unused and bloomed. |
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