love like certain trees
is an easy target
delicate bark soft limbs extending
from trunks of softer wood
and leaves of fingers stretched
to touch life as it passes
defenseless against the disease of apathy
effortless for words to wound
it is rage that burns it to the ground
after an epoch of cloudy days
or in the quick minute
of a thunderstorm
when cooled ashes accept
the downpour of tears
the enigma
that sears the ear
and quickens the heart
sprouts again
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