Apple
I sit in the bowl,
attending the smooth curve of your knife
as its glare cuts across the room.
Your smile flashes,
and my skin flushes a pink delicious
shade of fear.
Your mind, a maze, a sleeping snake,
watches and waits.
Breathing down my trembling neck,
brushing me with your sharp collar,
my flesh boils, seething, baking.
You strike:
the serpent's fang plunges into the tearful,
sticky ripeness.
Down the middle, a deep hole aches
as the seeds of a desperate mind are wrenched
and torn.
A cored fruit screams with abhorent juice
and naked, raw, fermenting flesh
and rots.
A contest entry
- Winner Takes All.. (1000 points) by LeilaJayne.
1100 points, ended November 15, 229 entries
• next poem in this contest, • Add to finalists list, or remove from contest
Just tell me what you think.
Comments
-
One of the best poems ive read in months, great job, loved every moment of it and it kept me hanging on until the end!
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