I Probably Would’ve Eaten That Fruit For You

found this poem in my notes app and didn’t hate it. actually i do hate it quite a lot but i also try and publish most of the stuff i write even when it’s bad. so here. i don’t know who this is about but it’s probably exactly who you think it is and my notes app says it was written on the 19th of march so that’s probably when it was written. Huzzah

how the scientists dug down

knives from scalpels deep into the craters

the moon i was. the discovery

you never made. i miss you

and if you came at me with a spade

i’d let you, and if you came at me with a book

i would trust that the word was good.

in the beginning it was me

and you only, dustmite adam

marrow eve, two halves of an almost

and neither of us holy.

nothing reverent in the wound you made of me.

i was forged in the smith of your ribcage

warm darkness. the word is

intercostal muscles, but back then

before the universe

i would just thread fingers through caverns

and declare it good.