Ripe

I must be ripe.

25 years of sexual development

Have turned me into a

Heavy plum-

Bursting red-

Waiting to be devoured.

Seasoned and mature

I feel my eminent decay

I can see myself

A gooey scarlet smear on the ground.

But for now

The sun is bright and warm.

I am plump and luscious-

Ready to spread my juice.

And the streets are full of beautiful men

That my eyes voraciously gulp down

Ravenous.

This is how I know

My peak has been reached:

Each swagger gets me going

Every swell of a bicep

The men- the prickly Adam’s apples

The slight bulge in the jeans-

So appealing to me right now

That line of a masculine neck-

Make myself into jam in his strong hands.

I can’t help it.

It’s the nature of the rich & ripe plum:

So ready to smush myself

A sticky sweet stain

On one of these

Delicious specimens of maleness

That have been displaying themselves to me lately.

I must be ripe.