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Saturday, December 19, 2020

Winter Writing Sanctuary 2.4, Indulging, Spark 9




Apple Pie

I sliced the fruit
as thinly as I could, 
I grated the cheese
and tired my arms.
She put them all
together, her own
little alchemy.
And we gathered
round to melt
into the buttery
crust and the 
tangy, aromatic
filling. Round
like the Advent
wreath, round
like our Os of
delight. Round
like how
I never 
want this
afternoon
to end.

Justine C. Tajonera

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