these juices
are flowing out like the blood running through these veins
you’re missing out on the taste of this fruit
the colors, the smell, the touch, the sweetness
you could grip me and never let me go
you could rub your hands all over my body
you could lay me down and just watch me drip
drip with all the nutrients you’d ever need in your life
but perhaps these juices never again meet your lips
a tragedy of greek proportions
because the tree I came from bore none other so perfect to cusp in your hand
now the juices flow every day
and this taste has never been so ripe
you can reach me in the garden
if you’re willing to jump