There is a Fruit Bowl in her kitchen And when she wants to get a piece of Fruit She stops and thinks The fruit bowl is perfect arranged They are perfectly Ripe and ready to eat She does not want to ruin them with her hands Her hands have tremored anxiously as strange creatures who do not exist approach her Her hands have clenched in anger when she is assured that her catastrophic omen is unfounded So she pulls back She does not grab a piece of Fruit