Gimme a bite of your apple, dear.
It s not as sleazy as it might appear.
I wanna feel the worm inside,
so crunchy and full of pride.
I want it gently to slide,
to submerge in my gut and subside
with all colors of acidic darkness,
contrived and wet in its harness,
to crumble in drops of slimy desire,
to spill its insides in blobs of cold fire,
to be my worm in a bite of apple,
to be my bite in a worm of battle.
To shine with substance
and orgasmic brilliance,
to be my Sun Dance
and survival resilience.