grab one

               word

               hanging

                              a ripe plum

cup it

               gently in your palm

                              until skins kiss

your mouth watering

               for its fragrant pulp

you will hesitate

               only for a moment

               to bite slice pluck

                              orange seed

               to suck the last

               juice       lick lips

                               purpling with scent

                               and flavor

skin to skin

                you will absorb

                              words never being

                              subtle

                                             in their demands

                                                            for knife

                                                            bite

seeds

reproducing

               phrases

               lines

               strophes

strong

               free

fastened

               to the page

                              only for the moment

lifting

               then as you read

                              as you write

                                                            to soar

only to return

               skin        to           skin