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edward palmquist

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in bloom

2008

The wind seems so careless
as it disturbes the petals.
So fragile…

The grass is warm to the touch
yet it irritates our skin as if in reproach.
So naive…

Your eyes shine so brightly
two suns at play for my amusement.
So beautiful…

The birds sing songs of desperation
for like us, they too have needs.
So primal…

Your lips are so sweet against mine
traces of our strawberry lunch.
So fleeting…

The sun is blinded by clouds
ignorant of our special sin.
So neccessary…

Your fingers dig into my back
a surge of pain and comfort.
I gasp but for a moment
then embrace the pleasures of summer.
So alive…

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