Under the honeycrisp branches
I'm watching the dusk die.
The ore *******
of a glassy sphinx
are silvering the fall,
her wingy myth
is mounting the sky,
is smiling at me
as she passes by.
And I look at her, look at her
scanning her magical waltz
with desperate eyes,
while thinking, in a nocturne,
how unreachable
it's her tide.

High in the pearly tree
a crimson robin
is waving good bye.
~Hildegarda Ares

everything is on sale
and I eat and eat
and yell at the couple
arguing in the ATM line
and smirk at the pharmacist
as I toss my meds in the
can behind the counter
king soopers
my realm
of crushed potpourri
honeycrisp apples
black cocktail dresses
stuck
shut with
peanut butter

I love grocery
shopping.

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

This is the shape I was given:

a violent explosion of brilliance,
massive,
flaring—a mouth so big that
it could swallow a
honeycrisp spreading the
red skin like
peanut butter.

100,000 years it takes to become and
I will be dead.

star—*

the harp of the wind.

My summer palette
If it were perfect
Would consist of...

47 gum drop
45 tangerine twist
53 sour blast
36 thin mint
24 tranquility
97 frosted
21 cotton candy
22 not-aye girl
38 alien
18 powerline
11 black cherry
66 kool-aid
49 calabria
71 mochi
02 mocha
01 solar beam
52 stellar
41 rusty
13 always October
17 honeycrisp
55 sun-kist
99 starburst

And I would wear this palette
Proudly
For it is me
A little always October in me
And in love with a sunset
Hopeless romantic
Who hasn't reached love yet
So I reach for stars
And solar eclipse
And run miles up and down
Thin lanes of traffic
Chasing dreams
All while wearing my palette
Proud

you are the Ambrosia of my mind
the apple of my eye
crisp and Red delicious
a Macintosh in waiting

     Granny Smith is exuberant
     over our Gala to toast the Empire
     I see a Pink Lady in Fuji
     Honeycrisp in every way

you are the Envy of Pazzaz
playing Jazz in Cameo at the Braeburn
in front of Lady Alice in Holstein
like a Hidden Rose

     though Janagold is **** mixed with sweetness
     your Liberty embraces Gravenstein
     akin to a Pacific Rose like an Opal
     enjoying Winesap instead of Mutsu

Andreas Simic©

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,

Her eyes fold gently
as she takes bits of honeycrisp
from my fingertips -
the first from the tree,
still hard, ****,
warm in the thick after rain,
hinting at cinnamon.

Her usual distractions,
squirrel on wire,
bobbing heads of neighbor girls
on trampolines,
lifting reigns of monarchs
and viceroys, mourning cloaks,
slamming doors,  
jumbled voices beyond the fence,
bright musks of night prowlers
in the grass,
all ceased to beguile.

As if desirous of desire,
she stiffened at the first crack
of my teeth through the flesh
of this first apple,
then bounded across the lawn
and sat before me,
not as a beggar may,
but as an adherent
to the rites of giving.

Bit by bit,
taking each with neither lurching forth
nor brushing my fingers with her teeth,
her velvet black ears lain back,
her brown eyes reduced
to sweet slices of rapture,
she chews each in its time,
savoring each in its time,
not as a dog may,
but as a disciple
to Autumn's way
of giving.

slide your hands up the holes in my jeans

and fill them like you did my heart



honeycrisp kisses show me

what its like to be loved



hold me close

and make me feel safe



let your fingertips teach me

how to make you feel



as precious of a thing

that you treat me