Stained Hands
There is a Fruit Bowl in her kitchen
And when she wants to get a
piece of Fruit
She stops
and thinks
The fruit bowl is perfect arranged
They are perfectly Ripe
and ready to eat
She does not want to ruin them
with her hands
Her hands have tremored anxiously
as strange creatures who do not exist approach her
Her hands have clenched in anger
when she is assured that her catastrophic omen is unfounded
So she pulls back
She does not grab
a piece
of
Fruit