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My image is not half of

what it should be.

Developed in red light,

developed some rose flavor.

Kept her warm backdrop.

Told herself she lived

in afternoon glow forever.


Like a light switch schedule

appreciating care given to me.

Longevity is full of laughter,

if you count the details.

My bonsai lives inside me,

looks just like the real one

except with smaller leaves

and a twisted trunk.

At least these roots run deep

inside this shallow pot,

and if my love is green,

fruit just might follow.

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