filtered picture of a botanical garden
in your head pink as a notebook I rose up I walked in a garden sheltered from streets, fires
red cheeks and rouge on my lips I danced complex scripts, pas de deux three four our rooms bloomed in orange blossoms our leafed skins in mornings of pure yellow sun
all around the tender spring grew green between turquoise shadows
pages a screen
in your vessels I inked indigo, your feathers sown in my shoulder blades, mobile, fluid, in the violet reflection of dawn
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