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I'm old and tarnished,
freckled, tangled, and round.
Colors have eloped with time,
and I lose glitter in your eyes.
Still an apple, perhaps, soft and dry,
but you are full and unimpressed.
Pieces of zest were waved off
by the years that ran wrinkles along teared paths.
Days became afternoons, tucked and lethargized,
as our beautiful youth sat and grew fat.
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