Metaphor
D
David Wood
0
Altın Yaprak
She was a riddle in four syllables.
She had two names,
The other, Victoria Lucas.
She was a red fruit met with indifference.
She was new money minted in a big fat purse.
A tired rose given too many chemicals.
She was a winter that was not kind to her.
The sleeping pills became her epitaph.
The oven was the end.
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