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By Liz Date: 2002 Jun 15 Comment on this Work [[2002.06.15.16.10.24163]] |
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You found me still on the branch round, plump with promise flush with a furious color composed of hope, need desire, anticipation. You closed your greedy fingers around me and plucked me from my perch without a thought other than that you wanted me. You cared not what went into the subtle composition of my ripening, you cared less for the burgeoning bud that threatened to bloom with a stark purity, honesty. No, you tossed me in the air a couple of times, an afterthought, how you enjoyed the weight of me in your palm, and you sank your teeth in deep and bit the heart from my core. |