Taste me, a ripe summer
fruit dripping with possibilities,
my fragrance wafting on heat
to caress your perception, my
firmness soft to your inquiry.
The crow sought to ruin
me with his greedy grasp,
to drain my sweetness but
I twisted quickly away, my
lusciousness still intact.
Taste me, a sun-seasoned
gift of the gods, smooth
nectar within succulent
flesh, I am ready to satisfy
your appetite.
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