.i
As the rose has thorns
So my smile has a barb,
For you I bloom a new name
And done a newer garb.
.ii
As the kept flower realizes
it's fragrance
So too it withers and dies.
The willow bends but does not break,
I close my eyes and sigh.
.iii
The whisper of your parting
Like an itch upon my skin,
My blush a faintest sigh
Of our sweet, sad sins.
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