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Stranger Fruit

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I’m taking

out the garbage and

haven’t had time yet to change.

I overhear two boys converse.

One thought I was a woman.

The other whispers:

“No, dude. That was a man.”

I try to thicken my skin—

that thing I would like

to be comfortable in—

but as I step over a discarded

orange rind in heels,

I confess some of us are

stranger fruit than the rest,

too tough for the common

mind to peel,

our pulp too exotic

to make any kind of sensible juice.

For now, we have to grow in

whatever shade we find,

and never mind the

thoughts of strangers.

They’re fruit too—

to be tasted and left behind

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Guest Tamar

Very nice, BlindWillow. 

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Loved it BlindWillow!

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On 11/5/2016 at 3:47 AM, Tamar said:

Very nice, BlindWillow. 

Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. :)

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Hey Blindwillow, very nice girlfriend.  A nice perspective on what is sometimes very hard to explain or for others to understand.

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  • Posts

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