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reincarnation, reinvention, retrospection
I mourn her passing
each day. I dropped her
sallow carcass
on highway 85, a dried
cicada shell whistling
elementary rhymes.
I ripped her name from
her grip, and emptied her pockets of
withered daisies and acorn shells.
and she was born again as
a slender dragonfly,
iridescent and sleek.
with an unclouded and unconcerned
brow.
now with stained lips,
glossy with teenage kisses and
indifferent words.
I mourn her passing
each day,
but I rest on bay leaves and
daisy petals
with wide eyes.
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