He comes crawling at night
Like a scheming serpent tendering the glistening apple.
A whisper.
Eat it, savor it, die from it.
He roasts, boils, grills it.
He bakes it with a cherry.
He feeds me with it.
He can slice it and bit by bit, put it in my mouth.
He lets me chew, swallow and choke from it.
I always hunger and hunger for another recipe, a new drown.
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