adam’s apple

a ripe apple is poised

in front of your lips


i hesitate, reaching –

then recoiling, not believing

you are truly before me,

truly within arms



a smile plays at the corners

of your lips, lips i know

so well, and my hand hovers



forbidden juice drips down your chin

teasing me –


wipe me away, it



i call your name but you keep

staring, taking another bite

and another bite and another



“why can’t you hear me?” i ask


no answer, just the devilish grin, the

sound of apple cracking against teeth



i scream, “why can’t you hear



it feels as if glass is separating you

from me, me from you,

as if you were behind a

display case for the world to see, you

and your prized apple


“PLEASE,” i scream


desperation slams into the crystal barrier –

liquid pours from my palms

as royal red as your apple – blood

seeping and dripping and



i shriek and you

stand there with the finished apple

rotten and bruised,

handing it to me,




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