Who spread the pages for all that I wrote?
Love shook the apple that stuck in my throat,
Spilling the cup that was swallowing me:
I ate the apple, but Love shook it free.
Sky-high horse where the clouds intersect
Fair Princess Travesty, dead of neglect,
Thrown like a shadow on the One World Tree:
I ate the apple, but Love shook it free.
And when she held me upside down,
I became Princess of a wider town,
Both feet firm on its tapestry:
I ate the apple, but Love shook it free.
Last seen pushing a cart through the rain
With her belongings, down Marjorie Lane;
Shy for an angel of high degree:
I ate the apple, but Love shook it free.