A Bite of Your Apple

— Pushpa MacFarlane

I’d rather not take a bite
of your apple, if only to share.

It’s not enough for me
to touch, but to hold
to make mine. Not for now,

but forever. To last.
When I hear a birdsong
I want to pluck it off

and pocket the note.
Or claim, identify, make mine,
when I find the source of light—

a ray of sunshine.
To own, not just partake,
or dwell, not linger

without permission.
A free lake to jump into,
feel the warmth,

dive to its depths and remain
before I find my way out.
To catch and hold a butterfly

long enough to leave
its yellow-blue stain
in my hand, then release.

To say your name
and feel how it rolls
on my tongue—

taste the singular sweetness
from a granule of sugar
before it melts, and give voice

to that plaintive dirge
submerged in my heart.

One thought on “A Bite of Your Apple

  1. Sorry, I mean, jumping into the LAKE. Jumping into the "lack" is what a confirmed bachelor like me does.

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