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Interruption of Lemons

Yesterday was a tangled knot
of interruptions,
of bodies standing in front of me
all saying Pay Attention to Me now.
So I did the practical thing,
in the face of all that need:
Chopped myself into a million jigsaw pieces,
handed a bit to each earnest face,
saying, This is all I can spare now, but
come back tomorrow for more.
Oh, it tastes like lemon sugar,
I heard one of them say as they left.
Even now, I feel a tug of affection
for who I was–puzzle woman, smiling and
making sure
as she handed out
delicious pieces of herself,
to hang on to the lemon-scented core
for keeps.

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