Farmer Market Dream

Farmer’s market dream–

orange melon burrowed in someone’s

hands, yours–body

strangled in a choice between

licking you, eating a bee, or

touching myself and cursing–

did we ever meet?

I think I’ll buy this pumpkin.

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1 Comment

Filed under poetry

One response to “Farmer Market Dream

  1. haha. I really enjoyed this. I live in the middle of farm land and we don’t have a farmers market oddly enough.

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