I lay in the apple orchard, lost deep within the rows of ripening and rotting fruit; half naked and lightly dusted with dirt. Where the moon sinks deep into my lower abdomen, and I am the fruit you so desperately crave. Where your words worm their way into my ears until I fall asleep to your whispers, sinking deeper into the grass and shivering in your arms.
I shake until your hands find my shoulders, I shudder until your legs tangle with mine. Your tongue meets my teeth; fingertips race goosebumps down my spine. Your breath lingers on my collarbone, toes brush...