Along the road,
steeped in sunlight,
still graced with one green leaf,
it squats silent as the dust
beside the racing traffic.
Later, beneath a dim lamp,
my fingers split the skin
onto this hub of segments,
sweet flesh
no less than a small cosmos.
Along the road,
steeped in sunlight,
still graced with one green leaf,
it squats silent as the dust
beside the racing traffic.
Later, beneath a dim lamp,
my fingers split the skin
onto this hub of segments,
sweet flesh
no less than a small cosmos.
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