i bite into an apple and there’s nothing inside.
crisp charming flesh, spoiled rotten and worm-eaten
its smooth exterior gouged and sinking
before the sun even got a chance to rise
this is the part where i throw away the apple
and one day its seeds birth a beautiful tree,
but milk spills and storms are unexpected so
when i bite into the apple and look inside,
there’s nothing.
its an inviting abyss:
a small mirror filled so full with everything
that it becomes the deepest hue of nothing
apple in hand, teeth bare
i bite into the mirror,
now dreaming of its tender sweetness
lounging in its unselfishness
gulping down its future
biting into the apple,
broken glass sparkling around my naked feet
its on my tongue
its dripping from my lips,
could something this empty make me feel so full?
jaw locked up, unable to throw it away
i sink my teeth in further,
lipstick all over the mirror
until it shatters into a thousand dazzling pieces
right before I think I can taste it