"Grape Stuffing Contest", version 1

Five is no problem.
I eat five all the time,
one never has enough juice
and one can be sour
but five are always sweet
five are always juice full.
Six I sometimes eat
when five is not enough.
Nine and my mouth is getting full.
Twelve. I have to count carefully now.
Fifteen. The bulges in my cheeks
Are evident in the mirror.
Sixteen. Seventeen.
There is now no room for my tongue.
Eighteen.
Niiiiiiiiineteen.
I wonder about twenty while
pushing my lips together with my fingers.
Twenty is a nice round number.
Twenty is better than nineteen.
But now there is no room for my teeth.
No matter. I cannot brag about a measly nineteen.
Nineteen is hardly enough.
Twenty it must be.
Tw …
Tw …
Twen …
Three and four press against my throat.
Eight tries to shoulder six aside.
Twen …
Nineteen and eighteen fight to survive.
Twenty!
Twenty! Twenty! Twenty!
I have done it! I have don’t it!
Twenty grapes in all.
Only now I must chew and swallow.