voluntary null

𝓱𝓪𝔂𝓵𝓮𝓲𝓰𝓱

if I wanted too,

I could pick each ripe fig,

right from the tree,

palms cupped and grateful 

to receive anything. 

 

though my days are hazy

and I can't quite track,

I do seem to recall

reaching for nothing at all

letting the figs blacken, rot, and fall

to my feet.

 

 



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