the orchard was fully fruited
but once picked
the peaches quickly rotted
the rot we drink
and are drunk on
and it keeps our eyes shut
doors to the heart and
windows to the soul
blanketed in ice cold
a bitter kiss of lovers
lost or family feuds or
strangers traveling through
the beds we seek comfort
in sleep or sex
or naps lapping our lives
licking away the days
left on these shores
waiting to be eaten by the sea
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