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Waltz
intertwine
like the vine inside your soul
constrictor of a wordless air
protector of a rhythm
the thorns will sting through silence
but roses color red the roar
you harbor in your eyes
revolutionize
your impressionistic flag
concealer of a darker hue
defender of my ecstasy
life moves like a rainstorm
in the world of thick brushstrokes
where you have made your home
despise
grows when your feet leave off
meter marked by blooms
reminder of the triple time
that heaved beneath our chests
one two three—now gone from me
but you still know the steps
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