* * *

Twisting and pulling.
Detached from the mother branch.
Careful not to bruise.

Succulence awaits.
Provocative to its core.
Flavourful juices.

The cut of a blade
transforms one part into two.
Soft pulp holds the seeds.

Chambers are exposed,
bursting with the warm hue of
red wine, smeared and spilled.

Wholesome and healing,
we broke the branch you gave us.
Betrayal abounds.