one (i pluck
each
falling
by my side, fingers nimble
touching solid)
two (and they go, each
before another, falling down
and flying high)
three. (it's done, he loves /
loved me not /
and
that becomes (the end) of it.
plucking
fingers (feathers) petals
off the ground, holding each
after the other
up
to my face (seeing what went wrong) i hold them
beside my cheek.)
soft, soft, red.
three
two
(they smell like you)
one....
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