Red, juicy, and titillating,
it taunts me so.
The Forbidden Fruit
is mine for the taking,
if I want it.
Without a doubt
I desire nothing more.
And yet, I hesitate.
The deep hunger is persuasive,
But
The fear of punishment is stronger.
Occasionally,
The slithering serpent sneaks by,
Teasing and tempting.
I dream longingly of
That heavenly first bite.
An internal fire rages inside me
That burns bright and refuses to die.
My conscience tells me to walk away.
Instead, I linger by the tree a bit longer,
Contemplating Heaven and sin.
What does it all mean?