My heart hangs there

This Kahlo heart is waning, but I refuse to let it die.
It’s been waiting for too long.
Broken like a back you painted yellow.
Now distant Babylon whispers around these silent tears.
Be mine.
Be mine, be free.
Ah, such Illuminating vision.
Yet the freezing rain is unforgiving.

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4 thoughts on “My heart hangs there

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