Blurred Hearts
Deep hues spill into soft blushes. Bold blooms tangle with delicate stems, where nothing stays separate, nothing stays still.
As Cupid strings his fabled bow,
Beware the paths where his arrows go.
The trembling rose in its velvet bloom
May scent the air with love’s perfume.
Yet its thorns, sharp as longing’s sting,
Remind us what this spell may bring.
So tread with care where his quiver lies,
His arrows fly with unerring eyes.
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