David McDonald

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 Forbidden Fruit


She is the air I breathe
trapped eternally in a vacuum
swirling between inhalation and exhalation
she is the final petal – mid flight
escaped from the prison of dying tulips
she is rare exotic fruit
fragile and unique
a delicate crystal façade
dangerous to the touch
I crave her tragedy
I want to tear her apart
rip her open in a blaze of lust
feast on the sweet nectar within
and bathe in the yolk of her soul


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