Fruit Bowl

She was pretty.
Fucked up.
With dark skin, light eyes
And a green knife in her hand.

He was torn.
Apart.
With an amazing sense of what ought.

They sat together in a room.
Perfumed
By shit and spearmint Lifesavers.

He said please, honey,
Let me be.

The one.

She leaned closer and pressed her lips so close to the side of his head that he could feel her moist words beating the drum of his ear and then slipping down the back of his dusty throat to get deep inside. Listen: rather than fake it with you, I will use the green banana from the fruit bowl and then put it back to ripen after I'm done. You will eat it two days later with Cheerios and milk as part of your healthy, well-balanced breakfast. What a great way to start the day. Personally, I don't care for breakfast.

Laugh now and walk away.
I have got a plane to catch.