Beaten To It

The wind stole
The heat from
My lips.
Before I had
A chance.
To blow a steam
Dragon.
With my final breath.
I wanted to send it
Flying on to you.
Wings of thought.
Scaled with emotion.
The delicate beast,
Would burn you
In the roar of
My last word.
But the wind.
Stole the chance. 
With the heat
From my lips.

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