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Picking Fruit

A field of choices

Rotten cherries scatter us

Piercing white noise breathing

Bow to the mirror

Heart stops, feet sinking

I hope you love loneliness.

Cloud kisses turn into lemons

Miles to go

Sheets that resume the velvet

Digging.

Never going.

Wheels that turn gold into rust

Frazzled metal pieces

Doors less traveled

Turn off the questions

Faucets drip

...

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emotionsbreak-upfruitGertrude stein

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