I love you like the apple
that transgresses from a tree.
It is pulled downward
and away
from calm familiarity.
Into the abyss of earth it crashes,
and is bruised.

And as the skin of all my mirth, will then decay
it shall infuse
with the origin of its origin
the birth by which its birthed,
and thus the end of its beginning,
and there forever stay.

So I shall count my loss as winning,
and ne'er again the two confuse.

With-
my bites so small they are almost
kisses
lined up like the dead: hands tied, blindfold blinding.
With-
lips that miss a touch by the width of a breathe...
just by that much-
the amount of air it takes to gasp your name.
With-
moist that rushes out of me-
all parts of me
to grasp your parts of you.
Moist from my perspiring shimmying lips-
moist that forms in a valley between my *******
and meets the moist like dew on the hairs of your chest.
With-
tiny bites on your neck right in the soft spot
right below
and right behind
your ear,
mirror to the place I tuck back my hair
nervously
like I do
when I  am
With you.
**** your bottom lip like a
honey crisp in tiny bites-
and
savor all the juice that drip
drops
drips from your tongue.
With you, within.
With you
Within.

Sahn
10/10/14

there's seven steps to the making and drinking hot cocoa process.

prepping: grab the mug, make sure you use tap water, grab the hot chocolate and spoon and begin the process down below

step one: pour the tap water into your mug, nearing to the top of the mug and place it in the microwave

STEP ONE: you're scrolling on facebook and you see the most handsome man you've ever seen and you automatically hit the friend button and start messaging him. he responds back, almost as quickly.

step two: press the general two minutes into your microwave and "patiently" wait for your hot chocolate

STEP TWO: you've been talking to her for a good month online now, you both mutually decide to meet up and instantaneously become very close. you start dating him.

step three: take out the flaming hot mug of water and proceed to put it on the counter. grabbing the spoon, put two to four spoonfuls of hot chocolate mix into the mug. begin to stir until there are not any "chocolate dust bunnies" floating around, dissolved.

STEP THREE: a month into the relationship, you're both very much in love. you've had your fourth kiss recently-but who's counting?

step four: immediately go to a comfy spot near you, pull up YouTube and watch people sexually assault women on the street and pass it off as a prank. as you are giggling along, take a sip of your dri-gasp! ouch, that really hurt.

STEP FOUR: three months in. he takes your virginity. it really hurt. you weren't ready but you didn't want to disappoint him.

step five: continue slowly drinking your hot chocolate, it's good to savor it. you notice it starts to get cold. you swish it around in your mouth and let it rest for a minute... it doesn't taste like hot chocolate anymore. it's cold, bitter and the mix from the bottom is floating around giving it the taste of dirt.

STEP FIVE: five months in. he started hitting you two weeks and three days ago. you said you wanted to stop having *** so often because it hurt and you weren't having a good time anymore. he said, "you're asking for it, looking so **** hot all of the time" and proceeds to force himself on you for the first time.

step six: you decide, **** this, im done with my hot chocolate and begin to wash it out in your sink.

STEP SIX: seven months in. you break up with him, he tells you he's sorry and you get back together with him. this has been a reoccurring pattern for a month now. but this time, you're done, for good. and turns out, you are.

step seven: you finish off cleaning the mug and spoon that was used to mix the powder and the weight on your shoulders is free. no more ******, cold hot chocolate for you.

STEP SEVEN: you are free, out of a treacherous relationship. "you were too good for him" your friends tell you, "he's disgusting and wasn't even that attractive". you feel unwanted, until one day you see someone staring at you while you're walking into a coffee shop. you begin to get creeped out after an hour and go to talk to him. you exchange numbers with this older man.

step one on: the process of making and drinking apple cider.

The most beautiful,
Of apples,
Candy red,
Among the gala,
And the Honeycrisp,
The golden ones,
Are many,
Against the new green leaves,
They followed the flowers,
And hang enticingly,
I wait, for one to drop,
Closer,
One, I saw,
Once, twice,
The largest of them all,
No purer color to find,
Exposed to the sun’s
Sweetening rays, so strong
But the arm that brought you in sight,
Sprung you back,
Back,
Away,
Lost, behind the others,
Whose scent cannot compare.
And I,
Wait,
Not content,
With what is visible,
So I sit, in the shade they give,
And return their smiles,
With quiet patience,
I watch the bees
And birds,

She held the dark apple in her hand
He ate it but felt so sole
He offered her his heart
Instead she took his soul.

She dragged him to her dark land
but he couldn't call it a home
He felt so used, it was love he thought
instead in an endless sorrow he dove.

The time passed she consumed his spirit
the evil in her has no limit.

Once he became useless..

she caged him with the rest of the boys in the basement
so she could start searching for a replacement

A new man with pure essence
A man with a spiritual possesion

a man ready for the next apple
a man who will lose the battle...


Words Of Harfouchism

Apple floating in the leaves,
Apple shining bright,
Apple ready to be picked
(and lusted with)
Winking in the dusk,
Ready for a fight,
Get ready to be  
Tricked

Whispers in your ear in the golden glow-
Uncover those instincts that just don’t show-
One little bite,
They’ll never know,
Reaching for that sin so time does slow

*Just don’t think about it

I sit under this apple tree
on gnarly knoll beside the glade.
Newton’s law far from my mind,
rather she, whom from my rib was made.

That first ever female voice
takes its toll on silent patch.
She rattles on in Paradise
and word for word I cannot match.

Her name aligned beside her man,
she who formed not long ago.
Since she arrived, troubles do start.
Since she arrived, I’m full of Woe.

God told me she is called “Wo-man”,
a joke I do believe he made
at my expense I am aware.
This gift, perhaps I should evade.

The rib I gave with good intent
perhaps something to dwell upon.
So fast to pray for what we want
but too late to change when deed is done.

With only my own company
I really did feel so alone,
another lesson I have learnt.
Take time to think before you moan.

At the time their was no doubt
I needed someone here to share.
That Paradise that I call home
was quieter before she got there.

A place to roam in happiness,
a place where I could meditate
where feelings so unleashed themselves.
But driven now to medicate.

From Paradise to living hell.
I sin for showing such remorse
with now a very saddened life
with no parole and no divorce.

She looks of heaven, so divine,
her shapely contours take their toll.
Until she opens up her mouth
then life takes on another role.

When what she see’s is what she wants.
Of all the fruits that lay to hand.
The one she wants is so forebode,
forbidden fruit is Gods demand.

That apple hanging true and bright,
gleaming in the mid-day sun.
She yearns to feast upon its taste
and No's a battle far from won.

I supplement with other fruits
that are delicious to the taste.
I explain the rules as God set out,
my words are truly just a waste.

I blame that serpent for my toil
for putting ideas in her mind.
That slimy slinky reptile ****,
looks far from good and far from kind.

They sit together scheming pair,
trying to draw at my resolve
to leave that ever calling fruit
in place where it did first evolve.

Temptation is ****** upon me
with loss of my marital rite.
Poor down trodden, hopeless male
is feeling pressured, every night.

She swoons around in tender pose
promising things that take my mind.
Portraying wanted silhouette
with glistening ******* and smooth behind.

Positioned touch in private place
and my temperature can't take much more.
To get hands on forbidden fruit
has changed this Angel into *****.

My resolve does lessen by the hour
too make sweet love is what may sway.
I’ll promise anything for this,
forget the price that is to pay.

Eventually I give it up,
placing the fruit before her feet
and all for what I ask myself
this apple tasting far from sweet.

The snake it shows a sneaky grin
and slithers off along its path
and God turns up,he's far from pleased
and this is where we feel his wrath.

Cast away from Paradise,
eternally to carry sin.
Adam and Eve are homeless now,
our children sinners before they begin.

Things were easier on my own
with no corruption, no temptation.
It wasn’t until this ***** turned up
and led man into degradation.

Is there a moral I can say?
Something to help my brothers know.
Yes life was blissful when alone.
Man was better without the Wo.

Its all her fault I wasn't bad.
So please don't take the time to gloat.
I was weak and temptation won
leaving this lump in my throat.

Firm, ripe, temptation red,  
the pale green-yellow flesh
floods my mouth
with Sweet juice and the sting of tartness
like a gift from a serpent
I know I should be ashamed
but I have been bitten.