Only an Apple

It was only an apple.
just a shiny, perfect, ruby red apple.
So innocently sitting on the counter
minding its own business, not bothering anything.

But it was tempting, that promising color,
the sweet scent,
the lack of bruises and soft spots.

And so you reached out,
hand eagerly grasping the flawlessly spherical shape,
mouth watering in anticipation of the first, juicy bite,
ears expectantly awaiting that satisfying crunch
that came from the initial taste,
lips anticipating that rivulet of stickily sweet nectar
soon to be dribbling down your trembling chin.

Pearly white incisors cleanly tore open the rosy skin,
revealing the soft whiteness underneath
crisp and sweet to the tongue.

But there was something more, an underlying metallic
that before had gone unnoticed to your hunger.
Slowly, it seemed, all the world passed by
as you fell to the floor, all sounds gone mute, no feeling in your limbs.

And as you lay there, waiting for the darkness to close in,
perhaps for eternity,
the last thought that crossed your mind
before waking by a kiss:

"But it was only an apple."