peaches.
that dark corner of that red-carpeted basement.
the treasures of taste, hidden there.
a tickle of desire
and we were off, another adventure
turning on the light - reaching around the corner to find the light switch
walking underneath the ancient looking tapestry
past the sturdy furniture, scratchy
toes sneaking across the stiff red carpet
avoiding eye contact with the dolls in the glass case against the wall
entering into the cool darkness of the storage room,
where lie the large, stark, foreboding washer and dryer machines - noisy
crouching in the darkness through the maze of shelves, searching
aha. found.
dashing from the gut of that darkness and back into the light
grandma served us the peaches.
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