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Tornadoes Swirling Inside Your Trees

I gave you my sorrows neatly folded inside a box.

This was the wave of a white flag. A bloodline.

My pencil scribbled on a piece of your whitest paper,


Guts spilled out for all to see.

Your tornado, my rage


And the gray in which our souls lost themselves

Shaken by an earthquake too strong to fake.


Fear, memories.

The past absorbing into cellulose.

Erasing, dissolving.

Tornadoes swirling,

Falling trees..


I hand it all out to you,

To the past that stains inside your sleeves.


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