apple i know this place. there's a barn full of hay to sleep in the sun. there's a shed full of bicycles with cobwebs draped everywhere. there's another barn filled with tools, wood, and an old kitchen pot. but most importantly, there is a pear orchard where i can loose myself beneath a conopy of twisted branches, spread out in the long wet grass, with a mouth full of succulent fruit. 000529
ithaca when the morning sun ap.pear.s to break the day awak,e and it is more than she can take to tear herself apart,



velvet spasm it began with this rabbit 010506
sweetheart of the song tra bong Some steaming-gold July evening my mother was walking down to our pond, resting her hands on her protruding white belly. She walked past blackberry bushes smothered in berries and pink azaleas, their new puppy stumbling behind her. And when she got to the pear trees, all the fruit having been picked off by birds, she stopped. She felt. And she yelled for my father. The puppy, frightened by her clear voice, ran behind a pear tree and peeked out now and then. My father came running, his summer-brown body shining slightly in the setting sun, and helped my mother to the car. Two hours later I was born. 010507
KindreDSpirit a pear
a truly ripe pear
juice full
melts on the tongue
like a kiss
somebody pears 020318
brynn it's been so long since i've been here 050518
viridian/alizarin No Iraqis or God or Woman_nags here? 060829
man nag not yet, anyways 060829
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