Maybe, like steak, it needs to marinate. Maybe, like soup, it needs to simmer. Or, maybe, it’s like watermelon: the one food everyone else raves about, but I can never get into so I leave it alone. Geri MD 17 years old
Poetry By Geri Afterlife Oh, look at the leaves. Look at how they fly. Look at how they circle, Freckling the sky.
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