Save Our Soulsickened- Adriana Tousun

If we must pick sins, then, let
gluttony be mine: I know the hot
shame of it well, the pour of wine
and honey from the nostrils, the grit
left between teeth after the apple skin
has rotted away. The dirt under my
toenails is filigreed in gold, and I've
dreamt for years of verdant cowardice; but
for all my excesses, I would rather
gorge myself on bony particulars,
the fresh slice of knife-edged disgust.

And as my belly swells with proof
of a vast and ancient hatred,
I'll swallow yet more, fold the seeds
of the universe into the crease of a
thigh, the delicate interior curl of an ear.
I can bear no longer the empty marrow-pockets;
forsake me, take a rib and bind it with the dusty
carcass of a pomegranate. Damned, I'd
expect. Desiccated.

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From the latest Goblin Fruit.

Picked up a collection of Jack Gilbert's poems today, for a break from the collected works of Audre Lorde