JULY
For months I eat only
apples I keep
them in my closet I return palming
the oil of
their smell
Deep skins red as between the teeth
Now you lie in his arms
proud as a stretched leg
Listen it is near midsummer and our friends are fucking
in the twilight smoking
in the brambles is it getting too late
If I eat only apples I am not thin yet
will my bones be like the edges of a bowl
DIRT MOUTH
The radish
glares and thickens
on its red
hidden string
but who knows
if the beets
will
root:
bull-dark,
cheeks stained
chocolate:
whole and blood-
certain
as my
brute ache
for you
in the night
Shamala Gallagher's chapbook I Learned the Language of Barbs and Sparks No One Spoke is forthcoming from dancing girl press in 2015. She holds an MFA from the Michener Center for Writers and lives in Athens, Georgia.