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Here you will find the writings of the poet Theodore Waterfield

Peeling an Apple

I live my catastrophe
as well as I can.
I cut the skin off life’s apple
in a thin, continuous ribbon.
Is this a ribbon
decorating life’s mystery?
Is this the DNA of love,
journey’s end,
little poems,
people coming and going?
Streets that flower
or are covered in snow.
Watching water fly past
the prow of a boat,
wondering how long the sea
will last.
How long the earth will live.
Perhaps I should bite the apple,
my mouth desperate for a kiss,
and leave a crater of sweetness,
as I pull my lips away,
saying,
this is what life is like!
Passion consuming itself,
until every bite is taken,
and ash covers it with shadows.

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