Napo 13

Eve, Grocery Shopping

She likes to taste the grapes before she buys them—

The green ones or the purple ones,

It doesn’t matter.

It’s the only way to separate

The sour from the sweet,

The paradise from the blasé.

You only get so many grapes in life,

Why waste them on what doesn’t bring you pleasure?

She thinks of this while plucking one

From the bunch, a moon drop

That she slips between her lips.

For her, there is no shame in larceny

When its done beneath florescent lights.

She bursts the moon drop with her tongue

And lets its sweetness gush

Down her throat. Not bad, she thinks,

Though she’s had better fruit before.

She steals another piece just to be sure

Before moving on to something else:

The cotton candies, then the concords,

Before settling on a bunch of rubies.

The real myth is this: everything belongs

To someone else. You fill your shopping cart

With days and desires,

And before you go off into the sun,

You pay the price—

Without ever tasting heaven on your lips.