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Mar 2016
Were you a summer citrus fruit?
I'm unsure.
You struck me with a sweetness
So demanding it curled my tongue;
Flooded my mouth with hours of sunlight
And warmth.
I peeled you eagerly down
Knowing each sliver as I handled it
Consumed with the simple scent
Of something so pure and clean.
Eagerly cast aside, I exposed
The sweetest secret
And felt your balmy flesh with my fingers
Learning each groove and plain
As if you'd never wither.
Silken skin brushed my lips
And I felt the hours of  sun,
The showers of rain that resonated
In each pace of time that shaped you
Into the gentle perfection before me.
Tasting all of that, I swore you were a flavor
Somewhere between citrus
Summer grass and lilac.

Were you a citrus fruit?
Who knows,
But in your absence
Any sweetness has been a
Vague reproduction
An echo of a necessity
That tasted of luxury.

Winter has settled in
And paley, I am deficient.
Sarah Spang
Written by
Sarah Spang  No where, Pennsylvania
(No where, Pennsylvania)   
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