the wine red juice dripped
down the sides of her white panna cotta
a red strawberry, a blue berry,
and blackberry
you beneath my jeweler’s loupe
your fickly gestures
leave me looking anxiously
across our petite dining table
No geoponic tillage could unearth
the true fruitage of her thoughts
towards me. chameleon
I could be to her
just another pondweed.

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This Poems Story

a hopeful romantic realizes love is lost