a Fig

each year, in january, id resolve to perse-pick a 

Fig before they went bad and black and wrinkled. each year their

lithe pregnancy would miscarry. turned to wither; anointed in

orchidial immaturity. in the lissome flexing of dawn, id

reach a soft, cribbèd hand around a single wet skin. id

revolve my cupped palm to fondle the bottom, furrows sewn like the

yammery of a book. id wrap and wrap my fingers, edging a tense swollen, i—oh, i

would have better delusions, would masticate Poppy-palette eroticism (would

firm & confident handle cyclical memory).

ah. how senseless life: free-

-ation; destruction. id scour the wind-

licked cols of desire to intoxicate myself on the wild fruit; id

keel id think, keel 

from the old tech of desire, from to eroticize the grotesque begging

come in, come in and be hungry for me (Everything

Eats And Is Eaten) eating & eatening; everything

remembers, remembers, remembers.