Like wet cloth on a flame,
A breath too late, a beast to tame
Buried under her fingernails, earth turned to ash
Charcoal tears frozen upon her lash
The blood felt heavy, a lump in her veins
Squashed a pomegranate grain, the kind that stains
Tried lifting a finger, it crumbled under its weight
It wasn’t the damp in the air,
It was the lead in her veins.
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