I’ve a capacity for cruelty.
And I’ll be the first to say
I know
It’s wrong

To let the darkness in to play (in from the rain)
Without checking intentions
At the door.

I want

To hurt sometimes

To crush these friends of mine
Pressing efforts into dust so fine

That it’s not.

So wasteful to leave
Hard-earned apples in the sun

Just to prove
They’re yours to rot.

But I do.
I leave them blue.

And in those seconds while the wasps descend
I think I finally understand

You.