The Bronzing Process
Vincent
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Shaken from a hard dream- a gasp! Woke into a world so cold, unseen.
The smoke lingers on the sheets leaving an outline of your body.
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There is a snow of your ashes, a winter in our room.
I cannot abstain while the cinders remain.
Tonight I will go over the stars.
Take my hand, I'll show you where the roses fell.
We'll fly over the stars like cinders falling.