a ripe, red, and yellow gift from the sky
caressed in my palm,
i delicately hold the gift—
for my dear life
above me, the saturated blue tinted heaven seems to be herself again
the mother of heaven says hello
she turns the tall, busy buildings so bright,
i have to promise her we'll meet another
the gift from the sky is exploited and abused
we kiss, and kiss
and with every kiss
the thin, red, liquidy substance swims down my mouth
and falls off my chin
i bite into the hard pit
i don't mind
mother tells me she's heading out
but she'll be back soon
still caressed and unwillingly unfinished,
my muse comes to steal the gift away
like he does everything else
my muse doesn't take no for an answer
in his mouth, the gift melts
what is the chance, her
the sky will be so forgiving again?
