Poem by Ada Limón:
Maybe my limbs are made
mostly for decoration,
like the way I feel about
persimmons. You can't
really eat them. Or you
wouldn’t want to. If you grab
the soft skin with your fist
it somehow feels funny,
like you’ve been here
before and uncomfortable,
[...]
[rest
here]
This entry was posted by Ivy
on Monday, June 01, 2009 at 11:04 AM.
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