Singing in the R(P)ain

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Professed disappointment
Acclaims blemishes hushed
On glass-
But denounces flecks of water
Once believed on flesh.

What makes the possible interesting?
When we condemn purple contusions
As interruptions in standard pigment.

I encourage one to flay appendages
In downpour-
Leap until drops sprinkle
Through lacerations
And rest on shredded cotton
Because they’re bored of falling.

Remind them
Beauty is the origin
Not the end.

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