By not*about*you
Date: 2007 Apr 15
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[[2007.04.15.20.08.20648]]

The planted heart

The heart we both buried is under the fruit tree
The memories swept with the wind
Can you feel the breath of the beating heart in your dreams?
Hear the words in silent nights pounding at the minds eye...

But the doors were closed, as many times before, this time
forever sealed and sworn to never re-open, to never re-appear
reborn.

The heart of our fantastical thoughts desires in this parallel
reality is buried under the fruit tree which I pick from a peach, you pick an apple, we pick an olive fruit and spit the pits as strangers walk forgotten paths and every single dripping juice at the sides as we eat the tears.