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.