I have eaten through all our

Memories, a wicked moth

Shadowed by alley-dwelling

Sunflowers. I may not know

To whom you prey but I know

That I am no longer within

Your hypermetropic range


On my breath the guilty scent

Of rosemary betrays my espial

Lens, you are a raven, bound

To the witching hour by appetites

That seem to me more deprived than

Depraved. In the closet the dresses

I no longer wear are my scarlet

Letter shame. I gave up much too

Soon on beautiful things, on

Dreams with heliotrope wings

And kisses like impatient skies


Whenever you leave you

Unscrew all the light bulbs

And place them in your eyes,

Artificial stars for pink neon fireflies

I cry over nocturnes and chamomile

Tea pulling your black, blond, and

Red hairs out of discarded clothing

Bitter as the juice of a grape fruit


(This is fictional)


12 thoughts on “Grapefruit

  1. I gave up much too
    Soon on beautiful things…felt line…like the allusions to religeon as well throughout…to who you are preying…the rosary….the unscrewing the lightbulbs to put them in your eyes is a really cool touch in this…

    and i like the make over…its different…

  2. Hey, there’s so much here to take the breath away. Like brian I was stopped in my tracks by the unscrewing of the light bulbs. Unbelievable you made it sound natural! How do you do that?

  3. Fictional or not this is beautiful. More deprived than depraved, excellent word use and once again your images stun me; make me pause and stumble as I fumble to remember why I left.

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