Stolen from the rain
the sweetpea perfects a tear
from the unfolds
of a regally purple
wingèd leaf.
A colourless gem,
like a bright-glossed mirror,
a genie-bottle capturing
its environment,
shines in the dull drizzle
of the day.
I will not come too close
lest I loose your jewel
or become entrapped
within your surface tension
like an insect in amber.
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