overripe emotion

Old traumas pressed into new ones

Sweet bursting juices, the first peach of the season

Holding my own hand, releasing

A love that turns to raisins under the sun

A spring cleaning story: a soft broom against my ribcage

Back and forth

Watermelon seeds scattered like lost socks 

When will I find a happiness that is not all consuming?

Orange peels stick against a blue table,

summer heat

And I know time will only heal

A rotting strawberry stem on my bedside table

What has been “broken”

The fuzz of a kiwi on my tiled bathroom floor

How to whisper to an hour

An apple core on the window sill

And peel seconds off my skin

Choking on a cherry pit

And your love fades

Fruit flies collect in the empty spaces left behind.

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