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 The
Legend
A fluid blade
has slashed deep wounds into his ragged face
The long cascade
and torrent cuts toward its distant place
And so they know
a brief caress and interlude of sleep
but soon she'll flow
to others lost in darkest ocean's deep
He makes to her
an offering, a lonely bloom of red
and thus confers
his longing, shall the earth and sea be wed
A rainbow smile
the water gives but will not be his wife
He falls for miles
impaled on that gurgling, flowing knife.
By Jonathon Bowser
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