What is that lustfulness for spoiled produce?
Peel back that stiff outer layer, thick and porous skin. It really doesn’t do a bit of good. Does it?
Cheap dates can’t last long and you turn sour too quickly. (That banana is a temperamental bitch, isn’t she?)
Impatience leaves a bitter coating and unflattering flavor. Wait too long and overly perfumed gushy/mushy pulp is what you get to sink your teeth into. And who wants that? Only dirty girls settle for the day old, dollar short.
Who are you, blemished banana? Are you that naughty slut that turns fruit salad tanned and unattractive? Inedible, even. I know you were dying to be the strawberry, but we all can’t be that lucky. Poor girl, Banana-nana. It’s really not your fault, just a burden to bear.
I made the commitment and put out the time for you to come. Around. You’re quite taunting when green and unavailable. Yellow rouge began to flush your cheek and you teased. I must admit, I was a little excited.
Dedication somehow turned to resentful obligation and it just wasn’t fun anymore.
(Can you blame me?)
That temptress lost her touch and my attention and/or affection. I’m not really certain of the distinction.
Oh Banana-nana. You made yourself too approachable. Too attainable.
If she only had a season.
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