Looking up
at love's tree
I've never picked
fresh fruit
I've always found mine
on the ground
placed there
by an invisible
sometimes visible
hand
I never particularly
cared for old fruit
it's alright, I guess
but some of the taste
is gone
some of the firmness
is lost
and
much of it is soiled
as it is handled
by the shoppers
in the market-place-world
of would-be lovers...
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