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When I escaped,
you were too hot for touching
and would not run with me.

So, I left you.

Now, you are a burnt skeleton
leaning against a dusty table.

You still hold last night’s flame
in your blackened wreckage.

You smell of fall’s flamed leaves–
savory, smoky dying.

Intoxicating bone death.

Sacrifice, rise!

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/burnt/

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