The Deceit of Pink Oleander

House of Heart

Sun showers mist the window

pane in veiny tributaries that trickle

down with a warm touch.

Trajectories of icy trails run down

the mountains, an affirmation of

summer, pink buds of oleander.

Remain with me until birds

sing of our disparity, until

reality overshadows illusion

and dew drops blend with tears.

Then we will part.

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