Ripened
Never been one like my first;
scent of a mad bloom
throwing syrupy hints
dying to be eaten
royal dark sheen,
slick like a first kiss,
pristine and unbruised
firm, yet yielding to the touch,
thin skin barely containing
ripened flesh for
my mouth only
gushing at my first nibble,
flowing down hand and face
sticky-sweet in a way
of forgetting decorum
noisily slurping and smacking,
moaning as taste buds are
perfectly triggered
as the natural sugars and dopamine
hit the brain simultaneously
in a way that can only be felt as
so good I didn’t care
who saw the mess it left behind
as I rung-out the last
pulp from the pit between
palette and tongue.
But your first plum
may have been different.
***
NaPoWriMo Day 24: Today’s prompt:
Today’s prompt is a fairly simple one: to write about a particular fruit – your choice. But I’d like you to describe this fruit as closely as possible. Perhaps your poem could attempt to tell the reader some (or all!) of the following about your chosen fruit: What does it look like, how does it feel, how does it smell, what does it taste like, where did you find it, do you need to thump it to know if it’s ripe, how do you get into it (peeling, a knife, your teeth), do you need to spit out the seeds, should you bake it, can you make jam with it, do you have to fight the birds for it, when is it available, do you need a ladder to pick it, what is your favorite memory of eating it, if you threw it at someone’s head would it splatter them or knock them out, is it expensive . . . As you may have realized from this list, there’s honestly an awful lot you can write about a fruit!
Hephaestus’ Waste & Cosmic Rubble 