Jul/Aug 2009 Poetry

Adam's Lap

by Cat Dixon

Adam's Lap

Let me shine this apple on my breast.
It has the glossiest skin
I've ever seen.

This apple is a marble
spinning under the front door.
It's an eyeball with a green iris;
it watches him watch me.

I brood like a widow,
like a window the sun cannot reach.
His eye's a cherry. I eat it,
even the stem.


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