Fruit Stand

Strawberry vines
elegantly wind
through my watermelon tears
on paper

A little more than pear shaped
a little more than out of place
in a fertile land of fruit
to be picked

Pick me
because I'm sweet
plumped to perfection
if you don't mind my juicyness

I won't surprise you with brown spots
or bittersweet hard knots
But I don't wanna be cut
By your blade

Because I have been sliced
now by lonely nights
Lime-flavored liquor
my new friend

Peeled and exposed
can't feel anymore
bruised fruit gets passed by
again.