The love that pours from me is pure—
I swear. The angel on my shoulder
bares horns, but I ignore the whispers,
letting sweetness drown the warnings.
My teeth bared. I rip into fresh fruit,
sticky red nectar painting my chin—
A hidden “I love you”
slips from my tongue,
half-swallowed, half-sung.
The blood orange bursts between my teeth,
juice seeping, gums aching,
the taste so bright, so full
I forget the bitterness at its core.
Cherry picking fresh, I fall deeper,
flustered and soft around edges—
Devotion , hunger
a love that cannot help but consume.
When the sweetness fades,
I stare at my stained hands—
The taste on my tongue is of grief.
Mouth smeared, hands trembling—
and choked on the truth:
Love blinded me to the hunger
and in my longing,
I have eaten you whole,
mistaking your flesh for fruit.
By the time I tasted guilt, you were already gone.