Grapefruit

By Sara Kandler

They had the ruby red grapefruit

piled high

in those scratchy mesh bags

each orb heavy

plump with juice

that would geyser when pierced

then groove the back of my tongue

I reached out my hand

my mouth watering

Not those

You said

Jury’s still out

I countered

You: Still…

(Me: did I forget my pill?)

I watched you steer

our oversized cart

toward organic dairy

and loved you even more

from the harsh florescent lights

above

to the shiny grey industrial floor

of that teeming superstore