The mind is stocked
with a multitude of unfulfilled pacts,
which are often discarded
like the pit of a cherry.
Continuing, developing
stretch-scars of insecurity,
of these I should be weary
or is it wary?
I just can’t remember
whether to be tired
or to be afraid.

Start by bypassing dough pastries.
Make room for those sensual cherries.
Self, continue by wrapping
an undisciplined mouth around
their black bodies,
just like the prospect of him
has wrapped, then seized
a heart, belonging to me.

Please, ask for cherries.
Please, self, please
make the natural choices
to cease the critical voices.
Banish a monstrous gluttony.

Do it for him.
Do it for me.
Self, pluck a cherry.
Don’t be leery.


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