poison apple i saw my face in the skin. we were just girls in the attic where all mirrors grew wide & fibbing. i told you i was hungry by which i meant i wanted to be the kind of girl you were. with your scepter & your bowl of dice. instead i had grown wild & motherless as ivy. woke up to see my own limbs over-taking the walls. being a princess is not about body or mind--it's about fear. the repeated question what will i carry? when carry means what fruit will take me to sleep. if i'm telling the truth i crave this. a slumber beside death. as a girl i used to assemble a boyhood from moss & dead moths. was it a shrine or a grave? maybe both. teeth through red skin. i'm eating my own face. replaced with glowing white. if bitten into what color would your heart be my love? i always picture grey or old maroon. while underwater i hope you tell stories about my barefeet. i hope you find the boy memorial pray at it until i come back completely transformed. no more glass in me at all. a man made of moss & briars.