Separation is sad sorrow
Oh those tight little bundles of sweet syrupy fruits wrapped up in white cloth that be soaked with the juices of those pulpy fleshy things the moisty cloth that on the airs sends sweet humid musky scents to perfume the world with the odors of those flesh-pulp fleshy-fruits those pulpy-flesh fruits-fleshy succulent ripe and luscious that we all long to lick suck kiss and eat long to kiss lick and suck that pulpy flesh from out pouting tingling lips