Sunday, January 23, 2011


As I mix the color of your skin
I seemingly make you out with always the wrong pigment
I cannot recall your pale hue through time

Your fiery hair set me ablaze
In those years that have slipped away
When chemicals permeated everything

As the sun dies, realizing your flowers have fallen
In the winter that came to grip us mercilessly
Though I think of you often when the dahlias are in bloom  

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