“it’s a good corner on which to sell balm” – James Tate

A ripe fruit built to burst, it’s-
longing for the tooth, the fist, a-
discerning eye to gaze assessment, “good,”
and highlight every soft spoken corner
with shrouded secrets even the skin conspires on.

The gnash of the teeth, the rot of the ground; which-
of these, is any better to be led to?
Either end will see you as shit to sell
though, for a while, you were sweet and glowed like lip balm.