persimmon orange & me

Dripping, lush.

Old, in the sense that time has passed.

Deep, lingering, glowing.

Pushing out of time.

Cut in half with its insides pouring out, deep.

Bearing its fruit right in time, falling through.

Early and late at the same damn time.

Bare, broken, with veils that give it a figure.

Only the best.

Connections deep enough, hanging on.

Perched high, passing by, catching glimpses.

Souled out, sold in, with want.

But just enough, no more.

Cut in half, find the core, dissolve.

Sun-dried, dripping and dark.

And deeper, and

Dripping, and lush.

Older, in the sense that time has passed.