Genre: Blank verse
Word Count: 338
I held you there, firm in my hand,
and rubbed you gently on the edge of an old shirt
I happened to be wearing that day,
with torn jeans and no shoes and plenty of dirt.
I wiped you clean and brought you to my nose,
and smelled and sniffed and opened my mouth,
but my teeth could not bear to bite you, and so did not.
I wonder that teeth which had readily let tongue
lick your red skin, and that were sharp for nibbling
on such things as crackers and cakes,
were yet unwilling to break your peel,
dared not venture into your promising gold inners.
Perhaps my teeth are wiser than I.
I bring you to my mouth again,
and lick and breathe once again,
and think of juicy yellow meat of fruit, held
within a seal of red that I may never break;
indeed, my teeth are wiser.
My teeth must have some intelligence
of things I cannot comprehend,
or else are jesting then, refusing me taste so sweet
and wet and good and dripping here and there,
on my chin and fingers, entreating careless slurps and
frenzied nibbles, which calls I cannot ignore,
and lick and bite and drink without cup or spoon or bowl,
forgetting all manners I was ever taught when I dare,
and eat an apple.
I would most likely rush as I eat you,
and lose all joy for my impatience,
rather than wait, and learn to savor, and so,
here you are, here with me, sitting without shoes
and with ragged clothes, and promising wet
while being dry, and I must lick at only thoughts
of what you are, for I shall not eat you,
for I have learned my teeth are wiser than I.