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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Nature · #2293754
A tree grows in a tree stump: I cleave your breast, rip it open, expose your heart.
Cloven

I cleave your breast,
rip it open, expose your heart.
I find a snug place within to grow
where once you flourished.

You welcome this change,
holding onto life long after death.
It's in the sheltering,
this last embrace.

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2293754-Cloven