Figs

The person I loved the most used to love figs

she would joke around,

saying she loved them more than she could ever love me

they were sweeter, softer

more worthy, somehow

a couple weeks ago my uncle brought a gift back home,

fig filled biscuits

I don't know this fruit as I no longer know you

the taste felt off on my tongue

It reminded me of the smell of the medicine my mom would rub on my knees

whenever I fell from my bike.

Be careful, she said

You could break something important, she said.

I guess figs will always be a memory of falling