Hearts hang like fruit
weighted on branches
with sunlight whispered lips
fondling the surface they ripen
this is what we hold
flawless when in love
the friendship that has grown
the one who knows our needs
who we are in mind, the physical
our strengths admired
our weaknesses forgiven

What happens if then the
wrong tree was chosen
ours not by choice to inflict
a rancid taste into their mouths
they can elect to discard
and we withdraw into ourselves
in the end not the preferred held
in hand, our flesh will rot like fallen fruit
bruised, we lie and wither

©JMTacken 6.6.2014

I wish I could say all of me has returned, but I think I’m only an eighth at this point.

Photo Credit http://www.deviantart.com