Fair (Blogophilia 20.11)

Images float across the page.
Carrot curls over eyes of sky
A beautifully broken soul
Draws me like a moth to flame.
Hoping a smile patches
A damaged soul

Beauty still shows through
But you can’t be fixed
No flaming Tilt O’Whirl
No lap bars to keep us in.

Sighing, I leave the cage on the midway
Your image fades slowly into the night.

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