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Poetry: Bagel

Round and toned like your aching heart

From bruises too old to ever grow more faint

The pressed and darkened parts remind me of those days

You're like a bagel my love

A gaping missing hole in the middle

Which everyone finds a signature of yourself

Unbeknownst to them your demeaner was concocted in a cauldron pattered in soot

From the kindle of a raging flame you did not mean to ignite

You are a bagel

In the same way you both can become what is desired

But in the end the essence is the same

And unchanged 

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