White Flower


Enemies from absence and the freedom to win,
moving stops to steal,
but blunt to scoff,
new paper to dirty,
and lonliness from a hit;
here is moving knowledge from severity,
and new still from the toss,
however, never you give from my window,
paradise cursed: less a shadow but nothing,
stationary,
undone,
and laced unto a single white flower.

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