It wasn’t an apple little Eva

he materialized just out of reach
his eyes the color of poetry
and his hair – David Tennantesque
(on a good day)

there may have been the sound of clashing of cosmic wheels
or harbingers screaming ‘beware’
but she could only hear her heartbeat

he was wearing one of those stupid dusters
and an enigmatic expression

she says
“Are you real?”

“I’m as real as you need me to be. . . “
(she hates when men say crap like that)

she says
“I don’t need you
Asinine Demons and Angels. . .
Go back to where you came from”

he says nothing

“Listen, I’ve walked the Land of Undead Poets
and you poetry guys are all alike
I have spent half my life fighting fire with gasoline
and I’m done
You got that!?”

he doesn’t even flinch
instead he pulls something from his pocket
a pomegranate

she says
“What’s that?”

“Pomegranates were one of the earliest fruits to be domesticated
and their range now includes the Far East
India, the Mediterranean, and the Americas”

“?”

he says
“It wasn’t an apple little Eva. . .”

Published by

Chyfrin the Celtic poet

Artist, Poet, Electrical/Biomedical Engineer, Actor, Playwright, Set construction, Educator, Lover of womankind and single malt scotch

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