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Pinecone Moons
In the woods we walk
under the summer moon
full of pine smells.
A bird flits over
full of the soul of the woods
full of the moon
and the lonely star.
So we pick two pinecones
and the bird picks a third
but we pick two.
Pinecones cracked
we walk
hand in hand
swooning from the scent
of the sap
and scattering seeds
for future pinecones
and more teen lovers to be.
In the woods we walk
under pinecone moons.
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