About an Apple
I call home about an apple and we are green together,
coffee. Tembo. Mamba. Buttery pastry spirals
for cornucopial moon. Smoke from stone ovens.
as a golden bear comes pawing down the hallway,
between croissant sheets. Embraced
a name near mine. Cézanne, he says to me, See?
when hunger got the best of you, as one tends to.
that since I’ve smashed my mind so many times
thins to a wisp, and the color of language is lost.
elbows that spill into my lap. A feather lapel, a top hat,one eye distorted through the pain of an hourglass.
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