with her potatoes at the farmer's
market.
is round
and plump,
a sort of potato herself,
an extra
in a foreign film.
her cheeks red
with weather
with wind, with sun.
she stands there
before her
vegetables,
boxed in straw crates,
proud
of what she's made.
though
she had little to do
with it.
try an apple, she says,
tempting me
as if i was adam,
and she was eve.
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