An Heirloom

I told him I had a vision of him as a peanut and myself a little person standing on top, pointing a bezel in the crack to break it open.

He said he has never imagined me as a vegetable or legume.

I responded, “you don’t think of me?” He said he thinks of me all the time.

I would be a tomato, he suggests reluctantly.

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All God Wants Is for You to Make a Salad