by Anna Cabe
Eve plucked an apple
from the Tree of Knowledge
of Good and Evil and the
Evil Queen dipped hers in
poison for Snow White.
Think of that red flesh
against white skin,
the ways in which
apples, so wholesome,
so Americana — Johnny Appleseed, cider
like sunshine — become toxic in
women’s hands. A weapon.
Chew an apple a day, and
banish sickness. Chew an apple
from a jealous crone and fall into
deathless sleep. Give applesauce
to a toothless baby; steal apples from
God and be punished with knowing
exactly who you are. Child, I
give to you apples, sliced. Arcs,
sweet and biting. I want to see
your teeth crunching, your lips wet,
your eyes shut. I want to see the peels
raining on the table, seeds spat on the
dirt. I want apple saplings sprouting
at your feet, rising, rising, rising,
crowning you with blossoms, white
on your black hair, your bloody lips.