Passion is a
seedy fruit.
In a split
second, yet another idea comes up
- they always
do, but decisions are never made
Any result
would be unappreciated
- as aspirations
grow, but expectations haunt
Plums and
more plums accumulated
- shan’t we
blend them with the passion fruits? The juice could be a treat,
contingent
to our gluttony
If the dew
is never consumed, wouldn’t it be
more waste
and
never-fulfilled
promises
It is overdue but now let’s
make an elixir
with lemon
and honey
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