The Grapefruit Tree

For so long It’s just been you and I Darting around the house, Every weekend and holiday Each summer, easter, autumn. Circling the place that was our home. Be it tag, hide and seek or simon says, We’d always end up round This little tree, on the ground Basking in the sunlit garden. Our grapefruit tree, branded with 12 sets of our initials Set side by side, Each neater and more intricate Than the next, Cuddled up against each other. It grew as we did, Its fruit ripening slowly throughout The summer months, From a harsh yellow To a soft tangerine. But unlike the tree as we aged, Our blossoms began to wilt. The end came that summers day At your coming-of-age party. When those words left your mouth I felt all the air betray my lungs, All the blood my heart And all the light my eyes. You left me broken and helpless, Sobbing in front of our tree In between shouts of “Happy birthday!”. Now every valentine’s day, I buy a grapefruit from the shop, Doff its orange coat And remove its fiery insides. Place it neatly on a ceramic plate, Slowly eat it Pearly cell by pearly cell, Each bite leaving a tremor in its wake. It tastes sweet like our childhood innocence And bitter like your so-called “child’s play”.