Fumbling with the apple sheet,
peeling it from the hard bed core
slipping down until no more
of us would fit, and then - complete.
It was the season of sun-sweet ***
shy blue poems, raw car dreams
that tigered forward to rip the seams
of uncareful lives; what came next
was inevitable - we must mow away
the first-grown lawns of love; she undid
our lazy hopes and something slid
away inside me, spilt out, strayed
& was lost in a too-green spring
where birds cut the day with a wing.
May 1
May 1, 2026 at 10:55 PM UTC
Fumbling with the apple sheet,
peeling it from the hard bed core
slipping down until no more
of us would fit, and then - complete.
It was the season of sun-sweet ***
shy blue poems, raw car dreams
that tigered forward to rip the seams
of uncareful lives; what came next
was inevitable - we must mow away
the first-grown lawns of love; she undid
our lazy hopes and something slid
away inside me, spilt out, strayed
& was lost in a too-green spring
where birds cut the day with a wing.
