want and the hanging - Kay Thayer

my body hangs

limp like apples hiding

in the trees.

see the rope; intertwined stems

wrapped tight around my throat.

when she finds you,

she plucks you from gaia’s hold

and cradles you in her hands

the same way she used to

when we were all scraped knees.

my body stays obscured

by the budding leaves.

we had this dream, as kids --

we’d climb the tree high as we could

and stay up there in the orchard

for as long as we dared.

we’d eat apples until

our stomachs rotted through

and our bones turned to mush.

up there, he couldn’t touch us --

only the apples would bruise

against the unforgiving dirt.

you’ve long since left.

i’m still here in the branches,

peering down over coiling roots.

i hang so close to the trunk,

coffin-wood snarled and

splintering by

my limp hands.

my body ripens

as rigor mortis sets in

and all that’s left

is dreaming.