wrinkle-crackle crystal specialties

Temporary shadows

I stare out the pain
wanting an exit
from the loving grip
keeping me here

keeping my hair
tied to your bones
my way forever
following yours

let’s leave, I say
our shadows can stay
sighing about us
without us

a farmer’s market
tucked away in a grove
heavy with the sapor
we no longer have

you don’t eat peaches
you become them, lips
swollen in juices
breasts swathed in pulp

the fruitstand becomes
our bacchanal as I taste
the mellow ripe succor
almost as tender as you

shadows are merely
memories gone astray
for this moment your desire
opens the shades

for these times I will stay


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