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Prince

The poison apple Found her lips, red-rimmed, unkissed; She collapsed into a virgin abyss. When you found her there, you carried her home, To keep her as your very own. You waited above her as she slept for days, And shook her body with violent craze. "O bride, death white, awake!" She was pure as a child who burns at the stake. She slept right through your true love’s kiss, And died without such treacherous bliss.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012




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Date: 4/19/2012 1:42:00 PM
The sun is shining bright here this afternoon in Ohio and I am enjoying reading some very interesting and outstanding writing. So happy to see yours among the ones I am able to read this fine day before I get busy. Have a wonderful day and thank you so much for sharing your poetry with us Jessica. Love, Carol
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