Purity. Poem by Angeliki Largatzis

Barely there, in wait we remain
we soak up the rays
of the sun aglow
unable to utter
we hear the mutter
vehement words of sorts
from the farmers apace
we do not fight against
the grasping plight of hands
nor the mishandling
of our young forms
for in the sack do we proceed
such is the destiny we adhere
from the gap
in the sack do I see
my friend in all of her golden glory
the first of us
to attain sheer maturity
in the hands of a man
having his first bite of purity
for she was pure, my friend
the beauty to my green self
I do not tell the others
nor could I if I tried
for unable to utter
I could only hope to mutter
as sometime later, do I assume
we are picked from the sack
by men of savagery origins
and placed on a stand as display
for the people who pass by in a hustle
their eyes keen upon
the ripened forms of variety
from the reddest of crimsons
to the enviable greens of shine
unlike our dull, green forms of shame
and do we wait, I wonder
for our flesh to bruise and disfigure
or will someone come to devour
our rancid, unripened banana forms
for I only wish to see that beauty again.