I was swimming
with the taste of apple
in my mouth
a shred of appleskin
between my teeth I guess
It doesn’t get any better than this
said the water
These are troubled times
said the shred
and the apple, the apple
wasn’t really there,
only a lingering taste of it,
as if it were the last apple,
or an earlier one that had lasted,
either way it was silent
and I swam with the silence
in my mouth, listening to
the pretty crimson dot
and the great slipping glimpser,
not knowing if I heard
a night of love
or a love of night,
such was the knowledge gained
during that long languid swim.