ORCHARD

Velvet like river 
Shimmering like skin 

Have you ever scraped the fat from bone broth? 
A delicate procedure: the oil creates a film at the surface
a murky swamp to gently glide a knife through 
or, a metal spoon 
Slowly, like a paddle navigating a waveless lake 
while fetching a fallen leaf 

Does water beckon you like it does me?
Does sand ever wish to return to stone?
What happens after sand? 
Does it wither to powder after years of washing?

Does ocean wish to be a lake?
Calmer, less frantic? — moody?

Does lake wish to thrash about and discard entire cities like the sea? Can it imagine such a feat: to eat buildings for lunch?

Do worms rejoice when humans are buried in the ground?

Do they have a strategy for burrowing mahogany? 
How about cherrywood?
Oak?

 Do apples scream at the sight of your teeth?
Or do they long for your chew? 
Is their life’s purpose to 
seduce you?

To be coated by your saliva,
giving you their vitamins in exchange for 
metamorphosis? 

To be a part of you. 

 Do they yearn to 
exist 
within your 
cell structure, 
your vitality,
your flourishing life — even for just a few hours? 
To experience
the wonders of human existence — 
like a parasite. 

To breath, 
To walk, 
To mingle with exotic and radiant foods?
Like their friends, the radish 
or their lifelong rival, the orange? 

 Are the intestines the final dance hall? 

Who initiates the tango? 
Who casts the first hand? 
Who has the last hurrah? 
The final word? 

Orange, you wanna be an apple?