Peach Caramel Sticky Buns

Would you like to throw a stone at me" Here, take all that?s left of my peach. Blood-red, deep: Heaven knows how it came to pass. Somebody?s pound of flesh rendered up. Wrinkled with secrets And hard with the intention to keep them. Why, from silvery peach-bloom, From that shallow-silvery wine-glass on a short stem This rolling, dropping, heav...

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