I am like a ripe fruit
ready to be plucked
from the tree of life.
To be enjoyed.
To be savored.
Behold my sweetness.
My firmness.
My intoxicating aroma.
I'm palatable.
Good for the body
and for the soul.
Come, taste me.
Hold me in your hand.
Feel the weight of my flavor,
waiting to be devoured.
Hanging within reach.
Beckoning you.
Tempting you.
Ready for the picking.
I am yours to enjoy.
Just the two of us,
becoming one.
I am at my peak,
I am ready.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Ripe Fruit
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2 comments:
Lovely, Dave; and I understand.
I too felt that way once. But now I'm just an old fruit on clearance sale. Or so it feels like. Grin.
word verif: mighthim
how sensual
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