A lone vine creeps upwards
As the seeds of its dark brothers burst forth,
Splicing and twining.
In less than a blink,
Ensnared is my inner self.
As limber fingerlings caress my pale skin
And shivers shake,
While a black rose rises,
Within the greens of my iris.
Its forsaken thorn springs a tear,
That finds its escape only fleeting
In its tantalizing freedom fall.
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