the prospective model


come to my room
i have some grapes

they are wine in adolescence
red and green
blood and innocence
in this tiny fingered orb

hold it to the light
see the veins and freckles?

i split it
with my precise teeth
it says "kitsch"
but we know it lies

i place the other half
between the promise of your lips
you bite
i'll kiss the sweetness dripping
from your chin

come to my room
i have some life