You and I are sour grapes
Not sweet molasses or poundcake,
Just two 신포도.

Our pudgy stature makes hours feel like years
As we dry out under the sun.

Even though 

The heat wilts your leaves
And browns my skin

Even though

I enter raisin-hood and start

to smell like cabernet

I'll remind you

that I wouldn’t want to be molasses or poundcake

Even if 

the world was sour-grape-filled

cause

you could be in a box of raisins in an arctic icechest
And I could be drying wine on a pacific shore
And I would know

that you would be peering

Out of that box of raisins 

At the tundra and terrain
Cause you could find beauty in anything,

Even an old wine stain.