Garden of Grace

By | 1 April 2019

I never pictured you as the type
to appreciate the simple things in life.

To get lost for hours in a garden of flowers,
and snap pictures of fistfuls of lavender pixels.

I always knew you were
addicted to power.

Always knew you were attracted to men who
could fulfil fantasies of damsel in distress,

and could rescue you from towers.
Slay your dragons and demons,

wake you from your sleep, and do it with a kiss.
Where bed sheets only grew knots from tangled

limbs. But now, sis,
you knot bed sheets to let them in.


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