The fly
heartily feasts
on the frisky, hungry pests
clinging to a rose bud
that is too weary
and shriveled to bloom
it’s essence passed on
from one being
to the other
and transformed
Perhaps…the transculent wings
that speak of fragile innocence
the rusty glaze of its eyes
and the velvety iridescence
the nourished fly daintly flaunts
on its squat and compact form
bear testimony to the transference.

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