​The Fruits of Tantalus, or, Turritopsis dohrnii

The day slithers by
All full of coffee and suitcases
Appearing in no hue but a dull brown.
I arrive back home like a crumpled flower
And reach for the drupe that appears before me
Rotund and brilliant and shining
But it shrinks back from my hand
Like a wild animal hungry and ragged.
Taking inspiration from the immortal jellyfish
I will revert back to a child and rebuild my consciousness.
I must break free from the egg prison
That surrounds me with a cruel lack of corners,
Instead forming an oblong canopy to restrain me.
This aboretum mocks me indeed:
I will forever be doomed to go
Without the taste of fruit in my mouth
And I am disallowed from starting it all over again
To try to find a fate less despondent.