I Love You Like A Fruit

I Love You Like A Fruit.

 

How to say I love you?

 

What words to use, for a love so fresh English tastes decrepit and seedy?

 

(And that’s saying a lot, from a writer like me.)

 

The sonnet?

A raisin fished out from under the fridge.

The haiku?

Wilted iceberg lettuce at Wal Mart.

And iambic pentameter?

Forced like bananas in the Canadian winter.

 

How do I describe our love, the first and most delicate wild strawberry I found hidden in its own leaves that one summer in the clearing just below tree line, warm and smelling of soil and me sweaty scrounging on all fours looking for another taste of that sharp hot sweet?

 

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