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The petals curve inside one another, tightly, waiting, filled with the urge to open

the push comes from within, something ingrained,

hardwired, that rises with the water through the stems.

It must open otherwise its whole purpose is lost, wasted, squandered.

It was created to flourish, to bloom,

embedded in its DNA is its inherent beauty.

Uncurl, unfurl, open and reveal to itself its inheritance.

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