Devil’s Fruit

Take hold with hands

that won’t let go

and may the gods live on

and favor you, my dear.
This, dear child, is the fount,

the praise and neglect

of a thousand years,

taken from a virgin, spent,

and remade with a new scent.
What will you ask,

O child of mine?

Fruits of the loins

or fruits of the vine?
Rich or unseemly,

lavish or cursed?

Taken with fervor

and an empty purse.

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