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Mar 28
Fruit grown by nurturing hands
Lovingly protected from drowning rain
Never parched
Never too cold
Never too hot
Nothing but the best for Peaches
Bathed in sunlight, alone
Misted with holy water
Placed on a windowsill with admiration
To make a kitchen a home
Unprepared for the bite of life
Sensitive to the touch
Ripe for pain
The thunderous footsteps of a little ant across the skin
Enough to bring Peaches to its knees
Showing stain
Showing rot
Picked but never part of the chain of life
Instead, a life of suffering
A life of wanting
A life not eaten
Written by
     Sandra Ostrander and Perry
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