Oct. 29th, 2015

missroserose: (Default)


The apple beckons bright above,
skin softly shining
its cool crisp promise.

She never understood the first woman.
What fruit could be worth Paradise?
A degree, a career
A good and faithful
(discreet)
husband
two beautiful children.
Good neighborhood, good schools,
barrels of fruit at autumn markets.
Clients and school plays and
(smoky-eyed)
friends
Years bound by perfection--

Until this day.
The sun a breath of warmth
(brushing her cheek)
staving the chill of the shadows.
Her heart and her body shrieking for joy
running through the orchard
(still tingling)
heedless of autumnal approach.
Suddenly afraid, aware--
everything ends
whether we want or not.

The apple beckons bright above.
She knows how it will feel in her hand,
sweet and heavy as a choice.

It could be hers, if she reaches.
It could be hers, if she desires.
if she grows.
if she wants.

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missroserose: (Default)
Ambrosia

May 2022

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