Apple Orchards Harvest In July, You Rot In October
I pick your apples with a gentleness uncharacteristic of my kind.
I eat them with a fervor that may only come from me.
You are my garden of Eden and I gladly take any fruit the snake may provide me
Because having a piece of you, however unlasting, is better than having none.
Because I hold onto you like a farmer holding his last crop.
And I feast. I allow myself to consume.
If you have the ability to go, then god knows I have the ability to devour.
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