It had never been like this.
Never before so close and deep
you knew the social stigma of
the should and ought that bind
that thick sticky resin of the day
It speaks of what is right
what is wrong.

You know it.

In your heart, you know it.
Yet the heart wants what it wants
Or, the body lusts, waxes full
and craves and grows fertile
with giving - all desire
so absolutely ripe for the picking.
It's never so good as that moment
just before, when the fruit hangs

heavy, pendulous on the tree,
sun-glistened and breath
taking, the mouth waters
expecation; oh, to have one taste
To pluck from the branch is to kill it
at its source and then it is no more
Nothing but a pit, a hard thing
you roll on your tongue,
that you spit out with the demons of the day.
The same ones that keep you awake at night.