| Current mood: | wistful |
| Current music: | none |
Pretty Pulp
The forbidden fruit is still purple,
overripe.
It's rotten flesh still desirable,
pretty pulp.
My last taste was so long ago
and far too small a portion.
Already expiring, it left me
sick.
Seasons later, the forbidden fruit still
rumbles in my gut.
I consider climbing up to examine it
In it's high-flying treetop frame,
but lack the guts to pluck it from it's branch
and take another bite.
The purple skin may thicken
Season by season,
and the pretty pulp may be bitter to me now,
but I cannot curb the craving I get
(despite my crippling indigestion)
to plant it's tiny pit
and grow myself another rottenwood tree
have another taste of the spoils,
suck on the pretty pulp,
chew on the thick purple skin
and perhaps this time,
learn to vomit up the remains
of a poison I'll never have an immunity for.
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cosmic_soiree) wrote,
