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Rose

stem and only one. Only one rose, only one love. Love and roses. Rose bush. Jumping up and across, that scarlet letter gleams and steams with the pain of passion flowing. Flowing blood around and through to the end of the tunnel. What waits? The roses, the red, red roses. But wait, there is only one. Only one rose. Watch it grow through the weeds, through the trees. Anything but delicate. It learns to be rough, just like love. Starts as a flower and ends like a diamond. Beautiful, sharp, and rough.

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