Forced to push
through tangled
tender roots.
How hard
your bloom
in winter's
bleakness.
Your fair skin
luminescent beneath
December's wise moon.
She knows death,
and all we lose.
You share secrets.
She whispers to you
on the longest night.
Your blood courses,
aligned with her
inevitable trip.
Behind sad eyes,
I see rebirth with
each month's pass.
You cannot love sun
without her sister,
but they will
never force you.
You'll grow more
beautiful as all
of you blooms.
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