9 to 5
I ate an apple fritter once
A honeysuckle whisper
Glazed each hair within my ear
And told me to look from the screen
I sat by a window
Happy and soft
A dimple tugged shyly at my cheek
A coat of sugar crowned my teeth
Then the clock, upon the ninth hour
Ticked and tousled its morning hymn
I swallowed in shame, a begging whisper
And closed the drapes another day.
I sipped warm tea with lemon once
A cumin seed powered a song
And stretched the deepest baritone
To juice my piercing bones.
A lime drop rested on my tongue
And drowned the cracking skin
And dared to dress behind a hum
The scarring screams within
Then the half-hour struck,
And coughing up, upon a pulp
My bare feet plead again
Not to walk on that burning dessert
Of golden sand
And golden coins
Once I ate an apple from a tree
And upon the fifth hour
My teeth ripped from my skin
And my blood drenched
the yearning soil
And the tree stretched high
And its green leaves flapped away
Sighting whispers
On green-driven eyes
And I sat with a half-eaten apple
And with blood-stained soil
And browning leaves,
To rest and mourn.
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Image credit: Desert abstract (vecteezy.com)