red, round, supple
shapes and shades merge and glide over this bulbous thing
called a fruit.
i am told not to touch
so i stare at it longingly.
I watch from far because
i am not to touch.
I long for, but i know i would not want to eat.
Bloody apple, i dont even like.
But long for
only because it is the forbidden fruit
that apple – a festering fruit
an earthly, elemental dome for maggots, squirming, swarming,
devouring the core
why is it so forbidden
when my own core is a family of maggots,
waiting to make contact with distant relatives.