Orchard

 As a child I played in a garden,
 among your thorn trees,
 By the twisted roots and twisted branches,

 Your fragrant breath held gently,
 fierce as silk, fierce as the moment
 I held the garden with both hands,

 with eyes wide open, kept them wide, 
 as I was tender, as I was fierce
 —Fierce as the new blossom, fierce as the fruit.

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