I imagine some day you
will believe me when I tell you
my paper skin
can take no more of your tears.
when you wipe your eyes on me
and your crying is over
and I am thick with a rime of salt,
that the crust of it weighs down my wings,
the crystals of it will tear me open,
and I will be laid
both bloody and broken,
wet with your weeping,
unable to fly free.
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