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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.

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.

While our love dies in a ditch,
You blossom in a cage of green.

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