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A flower girl. A rose. A work in progress. A Divine, Beautiful, Chocolatè Empress.
Dirt was thrown but instead a rose grew from honey and potatoes. You’ve always been a flower meant to love and be loved but just like a forgotten garden, sometimes weeds and crabgrass grow in the meadows. The wasps tried to sting you and the flies swarmed while you were down, but they didn’t understand that your guardian angels are profound.
Dominique S Roberts W
May 25, 20241 min read
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