I make my fruits

Just let my flowers bloom

and if this season I will hang with just a few fruits

it does not matter.

 

Trust, how I long my own sweetness

Trust, I am no other tree

Trust, there is nothing to compare

Trust, my existence is as raw as a first breath

 

It is miraculous:

like the smile that explodes on your face just for me

like the fun night that I do not expect

like the conversation that found the right moment

like the sound of fresh water going down my throat

 

Do I appreciate how

I am generous?

I make my fruits

And when they are mature,

They’ll fall on our ground