Freedom itself is a binary, being tied
to your own convictions. You're the slave as well as
the master.  The person you face in the mirror
every morning tied to her truth, blocking out

all else, as the shade from a cloud when it covers you,
dark and low. A lonely truth that keeps you under
siege for your beliefs. You bare all, as the apple tree,
the fruit, the stem and the leaves. You’re

meant to be cut open. You’re not a waxy display
in a wooden bowl set in the middle of the table
for show. You’re meant to be plucked, bitten
and ****** to the core. You’re meant to be
enjoyed. This is what you live for.