We Are All Fruit

And we consume ourselves.
A pear in an apple's skin
The plum of your dimpled mouth
The rotund orange of your cheek
and the peel between your knees
A peal of laughter bounces back
from the mouth once kiss-bruised against mine
And her brown eyes twinkle with triumph
with her hot palm pressed to his

Salt strewn across the expanse of her mind
Tears withheld by her Jewess eyes
A stalemate, a cat's game, but still we dance
With flaming pens to bar entrance to Eden
while the sickly sweet overripe fruit of our bodies swell and burst to reveal shriveled seeds and blackened hearts within us all
We cannot escape her Sin.