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How fair you my sweet onion Layered, full of spite but mine How this day without you in past Regarded flames Can you hold still and know Your best taints everything near A roundness, a beauty, yet If a goddess allowed I would trade all lesser botanicals Once more for your smile Your jest, your natural pungence Yellowless world have you Void of heart, been an opportunist Let me dive into the tilled soil With deft toes tear loose A bit of sky spiralling ever down Unthread blueness and wispy clouds Pull them completely in That all may know how unkind An unkindness has been Garden maestro take a bow Sky you also bow today For my sweet onion is frayed Tightly bruised under fine layers Deglaze yourself my desire My martyr, my innocent onion Rest sweetness, dream once more
Tailor Bell
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8.8
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