I lay under the cherry tree
full of blooms; heavy and snowing
petals ephemeral
reminiscent of my romances
how they last only so long
but so stunning I remember them
all year.
This old one is a shade tree,
and under it I hide from
burning Father Sun.
What has it fostered, how many
women in love have sat
from year to year
as I...
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I don't think I'll have human kids.
1 Magarita and you were tight? Shocking!