Looking curiously,
I peer inside
the basket to which I find
more than I had hoped for.
A lemon, here.
Bright and exciting
on the outside.
Though beyond that is a bitterness
not easily forgotten.
Something's not quite right--
how it conflicts with itself.
An apple, there.
Look at that red!
Such hot energy;
power a few could tame
and a few too many want.
It is no exception to itself
after a few bites.
See how it lays, rotten--
a justified end to one so lustful.
A coconut, in the corner.
I turn away from its unappealing nature
wishing it was more;
yet who's to judge
its musky mask?
Give it some time,
for there is beauty within,
a gem too rare for shallow taste.
Stepping backward,
(or perhaps in time)
I remember why
I hold this liquor in the first place.
Let's not fool ourselves
to hold on to non-sequiturs.
Though you can always find
just a few of us,
like grapes, crushed,
at the bottom of a fruit basket.
