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.