These curls, lattices of swerve, arrange,
In their arrangements, dots
Of uncertain color climbing the backs
Ant-like and shimmering with the light
Red, green, black: strawberries, raspberries,
Leaf and stem, capped into the molten
Molasses of jam. She takes a bite:
All the glossiness of lips, the whites
Parted and serene, comport as a delight
The smiling morning drenched in cream.
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