There Is An Apple

A Poem by chloe olivea

have you ever been ashamed to fall in love?

There is an

apple

lodged in the hollowness

between my hollowed lungs,

embed amongst twigs and withered leaves.

A big burning bulge,

red as the dawn,

dark as the dusk.

At night I feel it churning and churning

as my breath meets yours

stirring above the pillowcase.

It groans in a restless sleep,

slowly squeezing.

Juice, yellow as sunlight,

seeps shamefully,

whispering through my body’s overgrown maze.

I cannot tell you how many nights it has stolen

from myself,

staring at the quiet slope of your face,

sweet with shadow.

My hand caresses your forearm,

the feeling soft and deep at the same time.

My favourite is the colour of your skin,

brown as if you were dipped in honey as a child,

a reflection of the way you smell.

In your sleep you reach for my hair,

twirling it around your finger.

I fear the crunching of the apple will wake you.

I don’t know how to get it to stop.

***

You rest your head on my collarbone,

as if to hear its purring.

I felt the vermillion skin of it tighten,

pushing yellow flesh together.

One squeeze and it spills,

the champagne-like liquid

draining out.

I felt the hot sting of it rise and bubble

inside my throat.

I prepared myself to say words I didn't know yet.

You closed your eyes to the buzz and the reddish glow.

The juice

oozed,

like yellow drool from red-ripe lips,

easing into my stomach,

festering into an tingy acid pang.

Your hands took my waist.

I wrapped my arms around your neck and felt the warmth of your smell

match the warmth of the glowing apple.

I sighed in relief.

That night,

we fell asleep to its lulling hum.

That morning,

I woke up with your hand in mine.

Author's Note

i wanted to expand more on the 'insides' of the persona to reflect a bit more of the very sad idea they have of themselves and the emotional struggle - but couldnt find a good place to put it. add what you want, this one's definitely still in the works.