57. Flowers

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The flowers around
spread their fragrance,
Trying to compete
with your
essence,

But little
do they know
That you're fresher
than any garden out there,

Your petals breaking my fall
In spite of your thorns
craving to pierce
me.

You're
the scent I want to
wake up to each morning,
Hoping to wither beside you
one fine spring.

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