And for what seemed like a minute
He pondered the meaning
Black fluffy stringy
Like a body that grows fur with no body
He had never seen something so rotten
Looking around, embarrassed
Would others judge his misfortune
He continued carefully with the process
Something so pristine
The surface and several subsequent layers
Masking the dark interior
Foreboding, bad luck
Is this a sign of events to follow
His greatest fear was that it told a story
A simple tale
A statement really
A spiritual warning
Infinitely small details
Showing up in the most uncanny places
He wondered how it found him
Possibly just coincidence
A random pick, an unlucky draw
His heartbeat slowed to normal
His mind wandered
Still finding it odd that his apple was defective
Was he, rotten to the core
Playing the odds
He ate an apple every morning
But still, he found the need to internalize
Finding obscure significance
We are meaning-making machines
He knows this, but cannot fight the fear
--
5.21.08
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