Not A Fairy-Tale
what gives,
in tunnel waves,
a burial,
a three sixty
of tumbling
of the numbing
a red forest,
sleeping
needles here,
gently
pressing
against
her chest....
Painful
tomb,
not here,
near
to explode
near
her womb.
What's real,
a here,
of an object
of a princess
not crumbling
to your wishing
of her seas
Just leave
and her sleeves
in defense
of not wish to be.
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