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

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.