The Edge

He met her in the produce aisle.
She was drawn to his fuzz; he, to her curves.
They left in the same grocery bag, to build their life together.
And then, one night, he came home early.
She was ripening in another fruit's bowl.
He teetered on the edge of the bowl they'd worked so hard for, never to love again.
Bruised on the kitchen floor.

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_{I'm very mad at deviantART; there's no conceptual drawing category.}