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An ancient murmur like moss and vine,
A verdant spirit softly rose,
Full of poetry, harmony and soul.
She must stroll like water —
A sweet tendril of shade and blue.
Breathe and blossom, there she is,
Shining beneath, the Eden within.
- C.c
You there,
With the velvet blush and smokey breath.

Lie with me softly,
And devour my broken embrace.
- C.c


This was originally a magnet poem.

— The End —