So there we were.
Fresh like oranges plucked from the
bosoms of trees welting in summer solstice.
Biting that ripe lip, she bled nectar. It was not long before I flowered too.
I knew her serpent tongue so well I swallowed venom just because it tasted like her.
I learned to know the ache of wanting. Insatiable hunger for that taste she always left in my mouth.
I had never had a sweet tooth before.
We unpeeled each other and made zest of our skins.
Learned each other hips breathed warm syrup air we could sleep in.
Then The mother plant died as the moon grew rounder.
I was no longer sweet but beginning to sour.
sweet citrus once danced on my
tastebuds now scorned them.
The leaves fell harshly now, and
all too suddenly
we were bare.
I began to dissolve as rotting fruit does. And we became each other’s poison.
Sometimes I catch that chaste
scent in the air, and think
of all our green time together.
Sometimes it crosses my mind
to drift back to that summers day
and pick forbidden fruit all again.