Apple – Amy Austen

Sitting there, the menace

of ripe roundness

it bursts with seeds

blood red and verdant,

Waiting, enticing

the smooth grains draw my eye.


Now swallowed

it sits sharp in poisoned stomach,
Juice straight to the vein

gums ache with action.

The ravaged heart lies alone

my core untouched


It browns as it slumbers

…I reach for a pear.

Amy Austen

As a travel writer, reviewer and content writer, writing has taken her around the world, around the palate, and around the mind.

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