Memory Fruit

I remember
the gentle way your heart
fluttered butter soft
apple peel scent, soft first
against my ear
and against my smile
and against my fingers

and against in the end
my knife words

we met each other too young
our mistakes were underripe
all our fruits inedible
they stuck in our throats
lodged like stones in our stomachs

someday you will meet a girl
who will show you the fruits of
her knowledge: they will taste
like pain and truth and love

and all of it, I promise, will be bearable,
and easy and autumn apple picking weather.

you will know when it is time;
when your apples arrive
your tears will taste like mine do:
sweet with memories,

she will find an apple tree
inside your mouth, growing
from inside you, tongue snaking
a branch, tenderly
a small gift of a small apple – young
and just ripe enough.

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