Sunday 17 August 2014

37) (Flash) Ode to a Purple Grape

You are the one that I want, the one that I want, ooo-hoo- hoo honey. You wear your colour so divine; it’s why I don’t peel you but eat you up all in one. Who cares what the inside tastes like when I know what it’s like to tease you between my teeth, with delicate squeezes of my jaw until pop. The sweet juices flow onto my tongue and down my throat. Just one of you isn’t enough. I always need more, at least fourteen so you can’t as one of my five a day. Oh but in my head you are five out of five every day. Unlike your bastard brother. Is he white, is he green? What’s the difference, neither suit a creature of his stature. He’s a mouldy raisin, a shrivelled up mango, a kiwi without the shag and who would want that? Not I. No, it is only you purple grape. You are the one that I want, the one that I want, ooo-hoo-hoo honey.

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