Like The Jackfruit

like the jackfruit you wait for the season
when you become ripe
and when it comes you exude the scent
of the sweet one

and then you are removed from your stalk
and then they tap with their hands your body
and smell you with their noses

kissing you and hugging you and then
they cut you to slices and then they eat every chunk of you

meanwhile some saps flow from the stalk where you were taken
they fall dropp by drop
they do not stop until the night is over

each dropp is a poem coming from your hands
on that ripe season, your own time.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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