The same but different

All these leaves of my being

Growing from the roots of my hair

And mapping my skin

will fall

Will some day be no more

Leaving space for new leaves.

Leaves that are different,

in colour and kind,

Type and nature

because we are never the same,

But ever changing and growing.

All leaves and its colours from the same tree,

But different, fine,

And accepted.

No more sacred space than our self,

Our leaves, needs,

and all these colours?

The same but different.

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