i came into season with the stone fruit
swelling with the shortening of days
we lay under branches bent overwhelmed and heavy
mouths open to swallow whole what fell
still hungry, you tore your fingers into me
and i burst, too close to rotten to be sweet
or worth-your-while
i came into season late this year
so you spat me out
but sucked the pit till it was clean
not one speck of me remaining
