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Parched

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I’m simply done flowering, I’m finally parched, I’ve grown yellow, dry and arid… eventually. I’m rid of all that brown most perfect flowers ever, of all those fresh, raw, neverlasting, scented mornings, of all thinking. Celebrating the fadingĀ  colour, becoming straight, even and grey, seing right through all me, deluging in just fabric… hence the new being. Split ends and simple tissue!

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