a white apple core
with skin so loose
it splits
every seem
open,
The juice
flows down
the lips
like words
the liquid
drips
on your shirt,

wait,

I can hear it
behind the wax,
I can smell it
below the burning
plastic,
I can feel it
against our skin
as you
touch liberation,

You smooth the nexus
against your brow
and the eyes
too close
with ideals
they close
to a dream
of a not too distant
reality,
You're awake.