Unravelling and weaving, sometimes simultaneously


Words of love
are like fruit
hanging on a tree

tempting even
in their nascence

but plucked too soon
too green

the flavor is not there
and they lie heavy
in the belly
their promise

yet if they are left
too long on the branch
they will rot
they will wither
they will lose
their sweetest moment
bitter on the tongue
burning the heart

Words of love
must be watched carefully
for that time
when rosy
ripe with their paradox
both simple
and complex
they fall from the heart
of the tree
into your hands
and into your mouth


(c) RCGA 2015



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