14 April 2012
Through spindly branches yellow flowers criss-crossed leaves all green towers towering over isles and canes
alligator fruits hang overhead. Testicular, the agucate abacate, palta, butter pear; oh to our ears what strange tongues, found roving here.
Soft thick soil between our toes, around the roots I can smell the mulch, pantothenic tang and rot unseen, untouched beneath.
Am I chaste? What desires could this ripe, fat egg spur in me, my ebbing wants of having you?
Am I simple? What’s green outside, green as envy, sin; avocado seed found within? Need clues?
She is exotic yet so is she and her but they are only what is seen and nothing more.
This plump charlatan, delicious squeeze aside will not satisfy me. I am bored and wander between the aisles for other fruit.
J x
Aphrodisiacs For Otimists • Opuss № I