Night lingers, blackberry staining
lips tart long after their kiss,
blooming into mature bruises.

Your haunch is a dimpled fruit,
my elbow, a peach pit.

On overripe pears, hornets
stumble drunkenly gorging, trembling
cellulose wings, legs, antennae, and stinger.

Bitter rind, the orange
horizon bites through

my sweet rot.
Swollen, my arm, asleep
under yours, embraces its ache.