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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”.
Copyright ©
Shane Zhao
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