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Lemonade

March 21, 2014

When the cloud dispersed into a ring
I followed the spotlight and we met
for the first time at the sunning stone
there was a bendy straw
sticking out of your orange t-shirt
offering quenches to these whose days were made of lemons.

You, the Citrus Grove King.
Me, a cold-blooded thing.

As you ran your fingertips over cracked lips
of stinging juices and acidic praises
you compared me to a speckled egg
freckled and fragile.

I could only freeze as you lifted me gently down
on your yellow crown
and the best thing I could do was squeeze
orange you glad you found me?

Title: because lizards want to love, too

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