The Offering

Written for my pirate, with my heart.
Many thanks and eternal gratitude to rhinoguy for taking my fitful words and turning them into the beautiful illustration below.

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The fruit is offered to him -
a tribute for all he’s endured.
Not payment; because nothing could approach
the value of what he has given.
Just a gift, brought to him with a bow
and lowered gaze
in gratitude and respect.

He wants to proceed slowly, to savor.
It’s been so long since he’s been given an offering of this quality.

He’s starving and exhausted
Worked into a state of utter deprivation.

Her soul urges him:
Take it
Claim it
Use what you need.
It’s all for you, every bit.

He lifts it from the altar of her love
The husk parts easily under his thumbs
and nectar runs out over the split
coating his hands in fresh sweetness.

The tender inner flesh is pink and glistening.
Enticing.
The scent is a powerful drug drawing him in.
He pulls it up and into his mouth,
addicted after the first taste.

He plunges in, fiercely devouring the tribute.
The juice runs down his face
splashes against his chest
covering him in its organic goodness:
The smell, The texture, The flavor.

He falls to his knees
lost in the joy of receiving the tribute.
Grateful to the giver.
Grateful for the gift.