The Avocado poem

Tight green skin
My palm cups its firm beauty
anticipating its warm comforting center.
Who first thought to pry it open and taste its flesh?
Surely an adventurous sort… or a lover of the unexpected.
A center seed dominates as if to say, “This is all mine, I created this and you did not.
So much of life is that: tasting the unexpected and marveling at what is hidden behind forbidding barriers.

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