Soft fruit

A pit at the centre

Cracked open

For the ripe seed within

My kisses are sunlight

You ripen

Your juices pooling

And thickening with each

Ray which warms your


I, a summer with

Knowledge of bleak midwinter

And boyish spring

Knowing of how

Best to nurture

You to the point

You’d burst upon

The first sunlit

Kiss I offered

Drizzled down

My bearded chin

And you’d pull me up

To sip from

Such a soft soil



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