On Unrequited Love, Pt. 1

The apple furthest out of reach

Is always imagined to be the sweetest.

Rosy red,

Glowing even through

The grayest mornings,

Enticing me to climb

The gnarled roots

That pin you against the sky

Among the stars

So far from my reach.

Pt. 2
Pt. 3
Pt. 4
Pt. 5
Conclusion