The young woman was out of fruit.
She never realized how much she
enjoyed taking the seemingly endless
supply for granted.

The young woman called upon
her loyal birds to float her away
to find what she is yearning for.
Fruit yearned for her just the same.

The young woman is placed
on a neighboring land of vibrant
hope. A young man scrambles
towards her innocent gaze.

The young woman blindly
follows the young man.
Perhaps new fruit reveals
a new friend.

The young woman ventures
into patches of petals and stems,
her hand being guided by
the young man.

The young woman steps foot
among a promising structure
of coarse concrete disguised
by her fragile whimsy.

The young woman was met
with a dark envelopment
of the world she came
to adore participating in.

You can touch it. Please. Now.
The young woman examined the words
as they left his mouth.
The young man scrambles again
to a leather plush, becoming
part of the dark.

The young woman was found
at the docks, begging the
birds to take her home
before the young man sees.

I never leave my island anymore.