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Fighting with Fire

  • Danielle Mattila
  • Jan 12, 2017
  • 1 min read

I burn baby's breath in newborn passion as cunning creation evokes destruction. I scold the skin of silk that eclipses a false celestial conscience. Adorning the garden I was told to grow, by sowing and pruning with withering inferno. Opulent roses that once patterned my dress now rose in violet violence. My security in conformity diminished like the short lived flame of a dead flower.

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