I sit here, with my brothers. And sisters. Some of us are non-binary, but all of us are big - together, we're enormous. And heck yeah, you'll enjoy us.

Candice, Jessica and Rose - they're our muses. Rose can play the xylophone, or the cellophane - I never remember, because she says they're both the same. Jessica is a storyteller. Candice loves to sing. 

Sofia is the librarian. John is the king.

Tristan can't listen if his existence depended on it. He's squeeze off the stem at day twenty-and-one, and now he's left behind in Piedmont. 

Kim and her band are the stylish plump ones. They've shined up their skin and gone out for runs. Then one day, our home lifted and they were pulled from our stack. We watched them float away, and they never came back.

Calli, oh, what a darling she was. She swung by on a vine, and I thought I was in love. She once came close enough to give me a peck. But before our skins touched, her vine broke at its neck.

Over there, Jack, he's the leader of the pack. He wanted to play lacrosse, and we respect that. None of us could play, although we'd all be willing. So we listen to him talk - just buds, just chillin'.

We've all been part of the same bunch since we were flowers. And however long we're cooper up here, I hope it would be hours. As grapes, we stay cool, and we always stick together. Lest we want to wither away like Boris and Heather.