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| Splinters protrude through the skin A garden of metal slivers shimmering in the lonely light Dreaming of abrasions and love Shards of metal on the floor all around Resting in a requiem of her That long ashen gown The one I saw in my dreams I remember a ghost whispering in my ear Exploring the confines of my home Pretending to be alive in the witching hour I can hear the spirits Speaking in a language unfamiliar to this world I spread the pieces around me Because of their beautiful vibrant surfaces But I have no idea what they were Before they were shards |