prayer for fire
the water is a mirror of my sorrow
and the wind whispers change, blows
through the tall grass, speckeled with ants.
i hold my wrists to the sun's razor, ask it
to burn these wishes from my blood.
and the wind whispers change, blows
through the tall grass, speckeled with ants.
i hold my wrists to the sun's razor, ask it
to burn these wishes from my blood.
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