It’s a metaphor
I felt a slight pressure
Right below my belly button before
It crawled up and bit me and
My chest felt the heaviness but
My eyes were swelling so I
Closed them because
That’s what you said to do if
They tell me that beauty is in the
Eyes of the beholder,
I’m not ready
I walk hesitantly towards the pear tree.
She beckons me and I try awkwardly
To mirror her sultry gait. Looking behind,
I think I have forgotten something so
I make to turn around. She grabs my
Shoulder and pushes a pear into my mouth
Hoping its taste would bait me to stay.
It’s not ripe. My face sours and my mouth
Rejects it automatically. It’s too late though,
I know what bitter is.