Contusion

There’s an ache in my heart

like an ache in the jaw—


a raw, swollen contusion

of gums and teeth,


a ragged heat that rolls 

from the side of my tongue


to my inner ear,

throwing me off balance,


pulling me sideways,

dragging me down.


I can’t eat with ease,

though this ache makes me


hollow, hungry

for food I’ve never tasted.


If a snake offered me

a magic apple


saying
this will take

the ache away, I’d bite.


I’d let the sugar sting

my porous teeth


I’d let the syrup pool

in my bleeding gums


I’d let the juice run

down my chin, into my chest.


Maybe the fruit

would yield me what I yearn.


Maybe it would burn.