(no subject)
There is a certain part of you and a certain part of me that are probably in love. Madly in love. They are hopeless romantics and want to send flowers to the certain part of you, and this certain part of me wants to plant you a garden, with sinful fruit and all. The certain part of me will go there every night to see you, after a long day of pretending not to exist. He goes there to give into temptation and not once eats fruit. This part of you on the other hand always takes a flower home with him, until this part of you has an entire room full of dead flowers, wilted and stiff. You decide flowers aren't enough, you want something that you can savor only for a moment, something that can never be replicated- you want fruit. So you go to the garden as you do everynight, cherry chapstick still smudged on your lips, and makeup waiting to run down your cheeks amidst the passion of a paticulaur part of us. You arrive early, so I don't see the fruit missing. But to your suprise there is only one apple left, the sun reflecting on its corners like a replica of childhood coloring books. You eat it anyways, because you need it. Unfortunatley you didn't know that was the only fruit with a the worm.