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Edition #10
Other Voices, Other Rooms
Gábor Papp
Edited by Lizzie Rose
Hedera Silentium
Like ivy, thousands of tendrils weave through us,
Anonymity, a fertile ground.
Fast-growing, hugging tighter with each move,
Slowly choking off air and spirit.
​
Tendrils dig their way in,
Piercing vines,
Through skin and flesh,
And into the heart,
A lullaby of lethargy.
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As the tendrils grow,
So does their bond.
You evade my eyes,
Imprisoned, reluctant to break free.
Locked in, giving in,
Giving up on us.
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While our love dies in a ditch,
You blossom in a cage of green.
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