bare hand 

she grips either side of the fruit. the apple
is round like a steering wheel & thick as 
a bruise. she posts a video every day on her page.
each video, the same going back months.
an apple broken into two. the flesh dripping 
on a counter. on the sidewalk. into the grass.
the comments are full of lesbians. i am not
one of them but i share their hunger to be 
dissected by something beautiful. i want to ask
the tiktok woman how long did it take you to reach
the core of it all? when was the first time 
you grabbed an apple & pressed with resolve? 
i used to eat apples whole. arsenic & all. 
i am not sure what that says about me. about us. 
my mouth, always a shovel. the core, something
to be devoured in the rush. when i worked
at the orchard, all pickers were faster than me.
their hands moving like dreams. they were 
all men. they handled the fruit like ruin because
it was. we had to work fast. rush the fruit. our hands.
our mouths. the woman never films herself 
eating the apple which leaves me to wonder 
how & when she does. i like to imagine that
she eats one half & feeds the other to a lover. 
the comments ask to be the one torn apart. 
for the woman to grab either side of a body 
& press. finally, she posts a technique video.
i consider not watching it to keep up my 
little fantasy. finally i do. she moves more slowly 
than ever. the heel of her hand. the motion seems 
almost gentle. the fracturing, yearned for. 
the comments, plead. more. more more.