Simple yellow dandelions
the color of butter
vibrant weeds hung heavily with childhood memories
a caught beam of light
waiting to explode in wishes traveling on the wind.
And she picked them in a pretty bunch to lay across the lap
of the returned one
as a gesture
of her unchanging love.
A river bends and slows but always
the water moves and loves the sky it sparkles under and holds the path gently
even when its crumbling and falling away and chokes the river.
Empty words sprinkled like rain
and even emptier hands now fall to her sides
and she stands mutely screaming
a wrenching cry out and into the universe
why am I not loved?
why am I not enough?
and the universe swallows it
everyone but you
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