TSM 99

it’s insane I want to bite
the fire-roasted apple of you,
my teeth breaking the char,
the crust, of your tasty your
sweet boiling

fruit of knowledge burnt
by meteor flight,
still smoking, still glowing
under all that dirt you kicked up
ejecta, trajectory, projecting

radiance like lava
under ash, I want to
drink what is molten in you,
quaff my cool thirst
in your fire




For The Sunday Muse

27 thoughts on “TSM 99

  1. Wow. This is magnificent, the imagery that makes me simultaneously hungry (not that I’m normally a fan of apples) and awed at the perceived purposeful aim of this meteoric apple. Where did it come from and why?

    Liked by 1 person

  2. “Quaff my cool thirst in your fire…”

    I’m simply molten after reading this; although it starts out with such hot longing, he’s certainly cooled down by the end of the poem…. climax then the withdrawal.

    Liked by 1 person

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