Lychee

The slow melodic way your fingers peeled back the skin of the fruit
Sinking into the flesh
Dripping down the crevices of your hands, towards your palms
The lychee juice glinted in the sun
You handed the fruit to me
And told me of your childhood
Biting into its pale, lavender skin
I tasted distant memories
Not my own
They danced on my tongue
And I swallowed whole
Your melancholy

 

 

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