For Aya,

Apples bear the scars of fleeting touch
Tender is their skin and fragile their disguise
Yet as time goes by some may rot, but worry not
As love can bloom back and flourish in our heart's vast.

Some slowly ripen as love grows
Nurtured and watered by the love that sets them in pace
Apple, the love so sweet it is savored in each repeat.

Its seeds are the memories etched in mind
The flower that stores its true self hidden in the facade of petals
And roots that carry the stories that thrive as the clock ticks

As our branches entwine in each passing time
You are the core of joy that life has to offer
And the fruit of pure love that nourishes the soul with its gentle flavor
A treasure bestowed to those who are lucky
An apple to behold and cherish