You have no leaves now But it is a warm winter. Soon you will have buds growing sprouting with the sun's heat. Your skin is cold to the touch a bark made of thin brown wood And I stand no longer polluting the air. I stand with a friend And I tell her about you How I've thought about you How I've spent hours with you and the moon. You have not faded away since I have made my wish to dance with you And the mold maybe it is one of your silly ornaments. Can you bring the inside out again so that I can take your seed and plant it into an unmowed grass where it will grow and make rich saplings?
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