I can’t get it out of my head,
The dangling fruit,
So delicate, so ripe
As forbidden as the apple
But sweet lips
Clinching to be hard,
And she,
Inspired by that old woman
To partake in what
She never really opposed
Somewhat indifferent,
Wearing out her daily planner
With appointments to keep,
This one bite
Of this precious fruit,
Lips locked and consumed,
Desired for and then more
Than just a new life style,
Why am I so haunted
By something I never saw,
Am I so envious to go where
No man has gone before
Ore more upset my name
Ever appeared in any planner,
Even all these years later,
This change of priorities,
I ache to be apart of
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