Persimmons for breakfast

"Are you ready for this?" she asked blithely, despite the inherent weight of the proposition.

"For what...?" he asked.

"For this. For the beginning of an us," she stated intently, her gaze never wandering from his, as if she was calling for a response from his soul. "I'm not looking for a fly-by-night rendezvous. I want the real deal. I want you to want the real deal. I want to experience you as nothing but your most authentic, most present self at every waking moment. I want you to be pure love livin' it up to your true purpose with your focused love light on me. And I want you to have the the same from me. I want something more intense than a blase fling. I want raw and honest, transparent and clear, love and light and fire. I want to be mirrors for each other's growth. I want to be a tangle of lovers filling each other up and emptying each other out.... Are you up for that?"

Her early morning day dream came back to earth, back to the ripe persimmon in her hand. Upon first bite, its consummate flavors left her at a loss as to how she could have not greeted every morning with such succulence and delicious fervor. She devoured it.