Poezja

Lion's tooth, dandelion
in dead winter,
holds on to your dress.
 
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for warmth. The oranges
are not meant
for sale.
 
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The obituary was short
and sweet.
When would you die for me?
 
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Wolves in white,
were very smart. A rose,
red rose for every martyr.
 
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Behind the bars
you try to catch the sky
for the lilies.