The Golden Delicious Tree, After Louis Gluck

 You think my parts
are superfluous: you want
what you want—nothing
more. First the pruning then
the thinning. I swallow the sun
into the opaqueness of the earth,
ignoring the fact
that you intended for it to
sweeten my fruit: but I would
never expose that part of myself
to you. Early morning the coldness
is a sign that the days
are growing shorter;
my apple can only be
tasted in the darkness
of your mouth.