—
your fingers tear into the flesh of the orange.
rabid,
feral,
unkind.
my nails gently peel back the skin.
I hand it to you.
your fingers rip into the pomegranate.
I use a knife and open it gently for you.
you hold a apple in your hands,
and instead of tearing into it..
you hand it to me,
and I help you.
the next day,
you've peeled me an orange.
neat and clean.
YOU ARE READING
the poems from the heart.
Puisii write from the heart, words spill out as i type mindlessly, i love to write, and if you're like me, or even not at all. enjoy the words i share, and find love in mine.
