Softening
Like the alphas tucked in boxed chocolates
Doing that which clogs the spout 'til they are limp,
The path they hoped their other halves would grate
Is a whisp of dissent that strangles them.
If they wish to vacate the hole, then go rest in it
Until you gentle her with a sword that offers the hue,
Or a slice of the fence thats repeats like a storm cracks
In the sparkles of the reflecting faced rightside up.
She won't save herself from grinding a stylish rag.
Hey, just letting you know that I did a response to this if you want to check it out. Personally, I love it.
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