Preserves Poem by Justin Phillips

Preserves



Ah, the little gold-haired girl
with wide bucket eyes that hold the world.
There is innocence in her fingers
with everything she touches,
and purity is shaped out
in a puckered little kiss.

I wish I could vacuum-seal her up
and stick her in the freezer
to preserve the sweetness
of her three short years
when everything is new...

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