What’s One
Garden I
They shared
the apple’s red pulse
its juice
wiped lovingly
from the other’s chin
sucked from the other’s
fingertips
mutually beating
pristine.
II
Hands flatten
against a cold glass
wall
the two peer through
imprisoned
outside
rolling
the bitterness
in their mouths.
III
She spits it out,
learns discernment
begins
with separation,
and slides
her warm hand
into his. |