applesauce 

we saw a rat crawling below,
between the subway tracks &
you said "look at him
he's not ashamed."
thick coarse brown fur
& glossy black eyes, 
he scurried off into
the darkness where 
the trains make their 
mischief. 

i want to be fed to
the rat, go along
with him & walk 
the hot underbelly
of the city.

help me come apart 
as gently. i want 
to be a palm of apple sauce
for the rat to eat
our of your hand.
soft & topped with cinnamon
so he won't forget me
while he walks.

dipping plastic spoon
in a little cup, a little
girl sits under the city,
eating apple sauce &
talking to the rats.
she got lost on our preschool
trip & now she lives there.

the rat, with me inside,
returns to her & 
she speaks the language
the trains do, clicking her 
tongue to mimic the tracks.

she's me, six-years-old
& feeding the rat her
apple sauce & telling
him a story about
darkness. she lays down
when the train comes
& it passes over
us like the angel of death.

the rat is kind
& take me back to 
the platform where you
have been worried. 

skin still moist,
freckles made of cinnamon,
i get my body back 
together & sit on the bench.

i can't tell you about
her, not yet. she had white
eyes & malleable skin.
she was not me 
but also was.