an orange peel
that cannot feel
or a human body
that is rotting

we are nothing
but variables of nature
expended some
and then we're done

do?
dew?
Honey
Honey see,
Honey( do/dew)
Honey do or Honeydew?
do seduces with toxic meats
dew attracts bees for its sweets
do concocts Jesus's Last Feast
dew provides succulent treats
Forsaking he who loved thee
But he can't forgive like He,
or ascend to golden streets
Honey do or Honeydew?
Are you Act or are you Fruit?

Her legs opened in the fashion a flower blooms,
proper and poised.
She exposed to me a rarity, the most exotic of fruits.
She offered herself to me and I gratefully accepted.
There is something so beautiful about a partially tamed woman.
The thickness behind her hips rested gently in my hands.
I kissed the tender flesh of her inner thigh,
all while teasing her with my fingers.

She’s soft as snow but warm inside.

Her skin tasted of sugar and spice,
my fingers like candy.
I was hypnotized the moment her pearl touched my lips
and I tasted the sweetness of her desires.
She had me where she wanted me and I didn’t let up.
Her pit wept upon my chin while I devoured the surrounding fruit.
I felt her body shake and I knew she had nothing more to give.
I leaned back to lick the spot just below my lip,
I marvel at the flavor of you.
Delicate and sweet.
I surrender.

Love is is the epitome of pataphysical self deception,
disdained and rotting from the inside out,
strained crys from the shepherds dying son,
lost souls of chronological madness laugh in the guise of strange fruit,
bearing witness to the tearing flesh of mothers scorned,
sacrilegious harmony whimpering in the cold death,
returning to the land where the Pharaoh died,
eyes whipped shut,
eternally salvaged souls from self cannibalization,
the end of living, our suffocated light.

The fertile weighs less than the barren
Exquisite fruits crumble placid stones
The farmer induces their own famine
Seeds may be perpetually sown

The costs of a cultivated spirit
are greater than its untilled counter,
yet produces a boundless harvest.
How do the fields fare, neighbor?