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A Week Without Sun
Nothing tastes quite as odd
As water that has sat
In the fridge too long.
A necessity, right?
Tasteless, isn't it?
But no, no, not so
Maybe the darkness
Or the 'freshening' chemicals
Defile it's natural goodness
As surely as bread gathers mold
Or milk ends up acerbic.
It could be more simple still.
It seems truest that nothing, regardless of merit
Stays that way when sequestered without remit.
