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Last Memory
My last memory of this woman
Once beautiful beneathe the frangipanni tree.
Now gnarled by invisible elements.
Her back bent from burden.
She cried;
"Its going to rain soon,
My roses will drown!"
She was dead by morning.
I dreamt of clouds the following night.
Of her voice;
"When you see,come running to me..."
She had fled from the rope around her neck
And plunged into the depths.
The curse was broken.
And I was free.
