You were a shiny apple
with emerald leaves and golden
stems. Hanging on the tree for all
the world to see. You fell into

my arms, from a gusty
breeze. But as I sunk my teeth into you,
I felt something squirm. I realized
this apple is filled with crawling

worms. Poking their heads into
the flesh, making holes. Digging
tunnels darker than my soles. I grew
sick upon every bite. So sick my skin

turned yellow. My touch
as ice. I melted like a popsicle turning
into cider. Now men drink me up
with a plate of cheesy sliders.