Foremost, the hunger.
So the fruit juice driveled down while the seed was swallowed whole
Could feel it germinate a warm hum against my kidney
fibrous arms wrapped tendrils around the loops of each bowel
Boy or bosc? Pear, clementine or a sweet baby girl?
I baked round basking in the morning glory.
The waiting, that delicious want
Womb expanding with wonder
To try and escape the grit now? Mud brown
bittersweet the core bore
Chromosomes neat and tucked
between bits of bark in the teeth
Why even bother?
Just like his father before him
I close my eyes,
Dream of the orchard at my feet
Who else could I ever be?
about// because the apple cannot fall from the tree
