You forgot me on a windowsill under desert sun,
All laid out to dry– seed pod, nearly hollow.
You left me to dream, to picture tropical sunsets,
mountain tops.

I’m fragile, hold me tight.
Don’t let me crumble if you love me at all.

I’m shriveled like an exotic prune,
from Asian or European sun. If only I was something to appetize you.

Bite me open and chew me up
there isn’t much inside.
I hope it’s good enough for you and I catch in your molars.
I hope you can’t get enough.

Do you still love me when I’m brittle to the touch?

The desert sun is hot and my mouth is dry, nowhere you’d want your tongue.
I wonder if the sun is so hot by the seaside.

Tell me if you love the desert. Tell me if I taste delicious. Tell me you love me at all