Love is love, I guess,
inside the heart,
even in war,
like a ribbon bow does its best
to hold neat together a raven tress
one sees only from afar
and might end up on the ground,
stepped on, torn apart,
and, by another soldier, maybe found
and returned...
If it's really the end,
maybe a wave of bad luck,
does it matter that much
whose is the fault?
03/07/2020
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