Only a lone shard of emerald green,
From the double glass through which I speak,
The rest’s a mist of cobalt and sheen,
And blood I gaze ‘pon my palm, so bleak.
Fronds: “Green”
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Only a lone shard of emerald green,
From the double glass through which I speak,
The rest’s a mist of cobalt and sheen,
And blood I gaze ‘pon my palm, so bleak.
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