I guard the dream you claim to crave.
My teeth are set in emerald skin,
Waiting for the soft, the shallow,
The ones who love the scent
But fear the price of the stem.
You see the silk,
I feel your pulse.
The bloom is heavy,
the nectar is thick,
And your hand is shaking...
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Author:
Brian Otucho (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 19th, 2026 02:34
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 2

Offline)
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