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How come I’m
still a seed
beginning to
dry up
before snow
fairies have
visited me
Inside this
darkening womb
I dream of
life
when all
around me
buried
corpses
whisper
prayers for the dead
I have thrust
out my arms
from between
the twisted
roots of grass
yet the
gardener refuses to
make a vent
in
the earth
for my living thoughts
Let me have
a reason
for my death
showers fall
and return
it hurts
that my strength
is my persistence.
