Honeydrop

Love was the honey drop
Held to this plate
It rolled freely as the
Plate tilted in the soft hands
Viscous checked it from falling down,
Yet letting it roll the way it wanted.
The cold wave, gusty wind
Fleeting rain and burning cold
The little drop froze
Sharp pick, hurt and bruises
Impatient and anger lit the flame
Red, orange and blue
Bruise and soot clad hands
Forayed the sweet drop in the heart

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