Taste that stings lips'
Sweetest to tongue;
Refreshes my thirst:

A bite of love;
As a fruit of worth'

Bright yellow smile'
Bright red lips;
And a body wave flow.

                She's not my world'
                But she's my girl;
                Made of-
                Lemon Cherry Water.

If I were like air then I'd breathe you.
As I sit in the the bowl and observe.
I'd never succeed in the quest that I'm freed.
I'll rot though, if I had the nerve.

Just take me and pick as I ripen.
Bite me, as nectar escapes to your chin.
Enraptured by spell to entice you again.
And feast on sweet secrets within.

But leave me and pass with your ignorance.
Overlooked as I signal my true end of days.
For I will repay you with sorrow.
As my beauty fades, waving farewell decays.

Mature my Mirabelle.
Fill my senses with your rich commences.
Yellow and blue, you are majestic like Malibu.
A royal color growing in nature like summer.
Discover emotions never felt before.

Sweeten me, Mirabelle.
Touch me with your gentle skin,
send a shiver down my spine.
Catch my soul as it follows your trails.
Jump in the dam, destroy the walls.

Accept my body, Mirabelle.
Give birth to our energy.
Mirror our synergy in the purple glass.
Yellow hair hovers across heated beaches,
presses my heartbeat as I am within her reaches.

Sadness fills my chest when I see kids laugh and play with friends.
Friends that I never got to have.
Happiness that was sadness when all I got was myself and a note pad
Seeing happiness filling their hearts m with a sound of a symphony remarking my best words.
My heart fill with joyous, jealous, anger because I wish I could of had the love they had.
Now you see, watching the present reflects your past in a negative or positive way.
Bullies smashing my face with a ball, or rubbing it against a rubber band, making me ****** dis confident.
Coming home to a world of emptiness, and pain.

Bitter, sour, barely sweet,
when I was in your tummy,
you craved that acidic fruit,
and even though we've since leaned towards
different suns and
fermented,
it's still my favorite.

Your twisted seed,
what has become of me?

Growing up your love was a grapefruit.
Pulpy, complex cuts, precision with a tiny knife.
It left a sting on my lips,
but it fed me,
and it gave me vitamins and it was
juicy.
This morning as I consume these two halves I think of us.

Duplicate cells, my pink flesh and thick skin and
biting taste, all from you.
Both of us hollowed out and squeezed until we have nothing left to give, but we're still
bright yellow on the outside.

As sweet as candy
Don’t you think watermelons dandy?

It’s got seeds
It’s nice and fresh
It’s green

There’s no other fruit in sight
I’d like to eat

Absorbing Sun's caring embrace
and the water's life,
the trees mix them into oxygen for the man,
for he has planted the seeds
which marked their beginning — organisms vital for wildlife and shelter.

The man now receives their appreciation
with the maturing of the fruit.
To eat it is honoring its purpose and time,
for it grew only for you, as a gift.
Earth's hospitality was never meant for granted,
but be returned to the cycle.

It spins like our planet in space,
around a warm core and a cold shell.
Stars there align to the call of energy
designed to dance in gray,
and to portray protons and electrons
in a chemical reaction,
beginning of the first light — pressed lighter igniting candles.

I carry
one memory
of you and me,
I carry it
all the way up,
to the highest tree,
I hang it there
for you to see
and falling leaves
unveiling me
like each
apple,
pear
or a peach
and how
sweet things
grow out of reach