Center of so many stories…

In Paradise, a Trojan horse of cursed knowledge,

For Newton, an inspiration unravelling gravity,

For Snow White, her fall

And for Apple, it’s symbol.

What is it about you, a basic fruit,

That other fruits cannot be, give or do?

You’re not the sweetest, like mangoes,

Nor the prettiest, like cherries,

Certainly not as fragrant as bananas,

And not as nutritious as berries.

So why?

I here by make a guess…

That your shape,

From the hollow that holds your stem

And goes up and around smooth curves

Then downwards slanted,

Like a long dress holding in shapely legs,

To the way you submit to a hand

Perfect to wrapping fingers,

And how you resist, then give in,

To sinking teeth…

This collapsing crunch

These flowing juices

Those rushing fragrances…

Is why.