firm...ripe...temptation red
the pale green-yellow flesh
floods my mouth
with sweet juice and the sting of tartness
like a gift from a serpent
i know i should be ashamed
but i have been bitten my throat burns with words i can not say
songs i can not sing
poems i can not write
stuck between chaos and love
i can not begin to spit them out
with every breath i take
i can hear them heaving up
creeping into my language
but i swallow them down roughly
they taste of your amorous eyes
staring at me in the dark
my poetic heart
only tears us further
so i silently hide my grief
and while my throat tingles with
words unsaid
i watch your smile grow
have i got it now?
