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Shopping at Williams Sonoma with my Mom

I stole the plastic lemon from the kitchen store It was in a bowl of mixed fruits because somehow a bright yellow orb is meant to convince me to buy some dishes I know stealing is wrong but I was bored and had I been alone I would have never entered the store at all

I saw the lemon sitting there mocking the hands in my pockets who itched with desire So I pretended to be the type of person who cared about expensive pans then snatched the small, pointless object and shoved it into my coat

I rubbed my fingers along its curves It felt nothing like the real thing, covered with artificial bumps The edges were soft enough to be pushed in leaving man-made craters where my nails had been and it did not let my hands smell sweet Yet walking through the mall this tangible secret invigorated me

It was mine It was worthless but it was wrong And now it sits in a box in my room As a reminder of the rebel that lives within me With one grape, one strawberry, and two olives

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