turning in my hands,
sweet nectar unwinding from the peel.
My lips tingle from the touch,
bliss sweeping across the crevices
like a cool breeze between trees.
I taste a burst of promise,
simple as it rolls on my tongue
and down my throat.
In my stomach, a tree starts to sprout.
The leaves tickle my sides,
taking my breath away.
With a smile, I brush away your hair
and hand you the pit.