a woman asks you to go on a picnic,
you are in
like Flint.
when she spends the morning
making
cucumber
sandwiches with the crust
cut off,
and slicing apples into
eight parts,
it means she's thinking of other
things.
there's more
to the checkered blanket
than meets the eye.
look inside
that country basket for
that bottle of wine
and glasses,
that slice of a fresh baked
peach pie.
there you go.
at last she's on your side.
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