brushstrokes on the window
cover up leaves rooted underneath
the soul of nothing
the view of me standing im my window
the glass soaking up the moment
comes to a point of limit
the long has gone to no more
as a candle flickers the sign
of beauty
the flowers dance over thoughts
of world and time colliding
together somewhere
other than that small window
surrounding my face with frame
showing vulnerability yet strength
lurking in the shadows
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