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i hope, there, you see
you see the prayer (whispers)
in my eyes the death (clutching)
in memories, every second losing more
(come back, little girl-
my ankles are fragile
my bones far too white
my feet, the thorns, limping-
she runs and her hair in pigtails, ribbons flying)
shoved under my fingernails are your postcards
with their scalloped edges and generic landscape views
and a promise from you- 'i will bring the cameo'
to burn it into my skin
bring with you a branch from the myrtle tree
disregard her quiet grief
oh come back little girl!
(guide me to her)
to felix and toto (dearest friends)
find me the orange tree
the ladder, to climb
the sting on the sores-
my lips, bleeding&burning
she is gone, i cannot find the willow
but they wait, with a query-
still yet,
have you found your red ribbons?