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Eve's Choice
i want the apple 
i don't want the apple

there is fruit they tell me
the fruit is meant to be eaten

I do what I’m told because
I do what I’m told

and

the heart is only a muscle
vomiting out a snake.

Before I grabbed for 
the fruit, a fever took me in

something like a dream, I was told
it was a dream and they told me

feelings are valid 
but they aren’t always facts

and that made sense to me 
so I took the fruit 

like I thought a man would.
​

Is something bad
going to happen? I asked them

in something like a dream.
Magical thinking, they said,

and practicing magic are 
different things,

don’t you know? One day a thing
called cyber magic

will exist and your children will
be spellbound by it, a dark

kind of magic you won’t
know how to undo

but contributed to. They said this
as if this magic was part of the fruit,

a necessary evil, I heard. 
I don’t think they said it but I knew it

like an open window and stark
breeze like light comes in, ivy rendered

like buildings made of wood and things
called robots tended to like people.

I don’t know what this is but I know
fruit. 

Is the value there or do we create it?
Is the fruit the value or did I value

the fruit so much it became the only
diamond, a speech about 
dreams?

What value is in silence?
What value is there in my body

holding your spirit, my spirit moving
into your body,

a ghost serpent everywhere at once
slithering, a regulated heart?

Does not being on the internet mean 
you’re worse 

than dead—​

that you don’t exist,
aren’t worth remembering,

not even for the fruit
or the hand that touched it?
​
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  • HOME
  • WINTER 2022 ISSUE
  • SUBMISSIONS
    • Submission Form
  • ABOUT
  • LITTLE BLACK BOOK
    • A NOTE FROM THE EDITORS
  • SHOP