Something to Chew on-24-W4M (NYC)If I were a vegetable, I'd be a beet.
(...Not so much in form, I'd hasten to add, cause in that regard I'd be closer to a svelte winter squash), but whorled full of concentric rings, writing a history of up-root-ing from VA to China, South Africa to Mexico. A hearty hybrid I'd be, needing just a few shakes of dirt to clean up after a day gone to seed, and sporting leaves like my hair, unruly and splaying from the top.
I'd be radiant in red, and leave your fingers stained with sweet.
This beet is on the prowl for a sometimes-companion, preferably planted west of the City for trips together to market, for meal-making and long afternoons spent ripening in the sunlight.
...We might do other things too, it's just that vegetables don't have too many verbs in their vernacular.
We'd be the finest models ever to haunt community college watercolor scene.
Other nutritional info: I'm 5'6" (I'd win the country fair, I suppose), brown haired/brown-eyed, and speak in many tongues. Of the creative endeavors, music's my poison of choice.
Hoping you've also got a fire in your belly...and that you care for affairs outside of your own garden plot. If you're a committed capitalist, or basically can't say how what you do makes the world better or more beautiful, please hesitate to write. I should probably add that you don't have to be a vegetarian, though that's cool too (frankly, in this scenario, that would make you a cannibal.)
Farming for a 24 to 33 year-old, with a taste for strange fruits and metaphors allowed to grow way past their prime.