Last Apples
Sharp, the swell, swirling
And cold reluctance tumbles
down into the empty pitted stomach
Pale, my shaking hands, pulling at
the weighted mindfull of memories,
that will ! Rust and drip daily
hinges will strain on posts of belief
Again held up, by disbelief.
Overgrown, and unkept, twigs touch
Ohhh, long long blades of green,
Fruitfull and empty, with plenty i leave.
Only the last apples are mine !
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