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Cotton foxes running with tails of silver kites

Milkweed footsteps splatter the sea with emerald lights

Broken vases spill ballroom floors for dragonflies' wounded patience -- 

Why is this always how it dies?

You see I loved him       But then he left me        & that's really all you need to know

He left me stranded     on the half of the story that doesn't float and the boats just blow smoke at my smoke signals while the salt air starts to fray...

But what am I supposed to say?

When my heart was all wrong, and the butterflies inside it

were painted too swiftly by colorblind pirates in a wonderful rush

to explode with the rocket that never quite had enough space?

When my real has gone false, and the stars that had aligned it

have finally been called out for shining fallaciously;

while I was chasing dreams, I forged my anchors from somebody else's chains?

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