Two apples twinkled
among green leaves,
And I stood thinking
which to pluck
For my arid lips,
lengthy unease
Shaded one in the
darkening eve
Cautioning me of
obscured muck.
I reached for the
other, just as bright,
A thinner coat of wax
on its skin
After being shined on
my sleeve’s inside,
Though both glowed in
the waning light
Similar as identical
twins.
Under the setting sun
they called
My hands, inviting by
freshness.
But my decision
couldn’t be stalled.
Knowing that as life
went forward
The chosen apple would
go amiss.
I left behind the waxed
apple,
I’ve chosen one simpler
than the other.
Of the two, I plucked
one less ample
In its shine; a genuine
sample,
And today that is all
that matters.
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