In the room of the arsenic wallpaper,
the most radiant green,
candles flicker.
Mold creeps, and we
breath the damp, breahe
deep, spores.
those two windows shut up,
the poison gathers. I invite
you in, and you say, my, you
look rather pale. I've breahted
sighed and become,
in the foul air for seasons.
My love shall last a moon, as
this poison has become me.
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