A Honey-crisp Apple Sonnet

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Your shiny tight skin bursts

in hues of red to green,

my watering mouth hurts

as I’m washing you clean.

 

You loose memories free

from a distant childhood,

I think of Grandma’s tree,

climbing up the hard wood.

 

Crunching bites tangy sweet

just a little too tart

Green apples couldn’t be beat

except by this upstart.

 

Genetically made,

‘tis a crisp sweet upgrade.

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