Crimson rose petals
Melt in hot amber
sand
Bleeding
Parallel lines form
Mysterious patterns
I study them
with
Intensity
I find them
Hauntingly
comfortable
Engaging,
Audible
These lines do not converge,
Nor intersect
Each line
is a book
That tells a horrible, yet familiar
Story
Once upon a time
Fairy tales grow up
From
gorgeous, bright red roses,
Into bare, sharp, tearing
Thorns
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