apples

I gave up writing the family tree
a long time ago
its branches outgrew the screen
tangles of names, dates
photos of blurred, anonymous babies
pendant as sleepy fruit

what’s more real to me is grandma
how she used to visit at Christmas
sleep on a zed bed behind the sofa
she calls to me now from a cloud of talc
peel me an apple Jimmy she says
see if you can do it in one piece

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