Grapefruit

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)

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