At an apple orchard


splashes of green red and mango yellow

like inconvenient stop and yield signs


pluck that large, round fruit

so big and thick and ripe


sink your teeth into that jam

rip away the skin, you wild beast, you wild thing


music lilting the corners of her mouths up high

she’s high high high up


breath pours out of her like water through a sieve, 

no, it’s not breath— 


something unearthly— something empties out of her, 

bubbling out of her lips, seeping down her jaw, and dribbling 

to her pants and flicking into the dirt past her shoes, trailing 

behind her— thick, goopy robin eggs 


so big and thick and ripe— take another bite

her eyes are big and fat, Alice-in-Wonderland-grand pearls


unearthly, inhuman, way past terrestrial


Jenn Uche ‘22, Creative Writing Editor