Saturday 24 June 2023

'Peeled apple skin' by Taylor V. Card

Peeled apple skin
Peeled apple skin
Peeled skin

You picture me with a knife in hand, standing by your beigey garbage disposal switch in your beigey kitchen. Only the smallest evidence is left behind: a coil of pink-fleshed, red apple skin, its pretty spiral thin and uninterrupted by my deft blade, curling on your counter. But for what?
                        A threat, “I skin you.”
An insult, “I make messes in your space,                        
and I don’t clean them up.”                        
                        A flirt, “I undress you.”
A carelessness, “I have strange habits,                         
and I forget to                         
hide them from you.”                        
                        A kindness, “Your favorite dessert
                        is in the oven,
                        I left this clue for you.”

A cruelty, “Remember, I’m with you;                         
I won’t leave you alone.”                        
                    A blasphemy, “I tempt you from God.”
A healing, “Look up                         
from the kitchen counter, I have                         
slices of apples and honey to dip them in                        
at our table.”                        
                        A haunting, “All this time
                        you thought you were by yourself,
                        I have been here – watching, thinking about 
                        removing our topmost layers.”

                                                                                                How do we take up space in each other’s lives? You won’t recall clearing a spot for my mugs, but they clink against yours on the shelf, hot from the dishwasher. Are you meant to understand my socked feet slipping closer, my bedding-down away? One thing I know: our core is lost to us both.


Editor's note: due to intentional formatting, this piece is best viewed on a large screen. 

1 comment:

FlashFlood is OPEN for submissions until 27 April 2024!

FlashFlood is OPEN for submissions from 12:01 a.m. BST on Sunday, 21 April to 23:59 BST on Saturday, 27 April 2024. You can read our submi...