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Thorns

tore his skin as he fought

his way to the sleeping princess

Thorns

ripped his hair

snagged his cape and clothes

Thorns

grudgingly gave way to his sword

and for the first time in twenty years, he felt

alive

kissing her awake with bloodstained lips

 

Later he cherished the thin

scars

on his arms and face, visited the garden

just to close his hand around the

rose

stems. each kiss of pain brought him back

to the day he’d found himself, fighting through the

brambles

On their wedding night, he presented a

bouquet to his bride

Needle

pricked herself, and ever-perceptive, she snipped

the blooms with her embroidery scissors, offering him the

thorns

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