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.