The grapes I hath

This morning I held a firm, plump grape in my hand before popping it in my mouth and rolling it around a bit with my tongue.

Biting down with my sharp front teeth, I love that sensation of the popping of the skin, followed by the sweet juices engulfing my tongue. The inner flesh of that fruit is what I craved until its smooth bits tossed about my mouth now satisfied.

There is so little of what we think is real, that really matters. It's the sweet, fleshy fruit that becomes us, not the skin that we find so alluring.