Caterpillar

I am
bound
to your
fate,
like
a moth
to
a flame.

Mind empty;
over
flowing;
sedate,
with
blame.

Can’t
live
with,
or
without
you.

White
scented
roses
fresh,
soft,
like
morning
dew.

Crisp,
cold,
against
the skin,
love
wrapped
up in

Stinging
nettles.
sharp,
spiked,
thorny
stems,

Antiseptic
soaked
cotton
wool
hurting
my
head.

Healing.

ink is free, so...

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