Dame of the Raging Apple,
grant us flavored
flesh, oily
epiphanies, we moan
the globed heft
in our palms, in your shiny
purple cloak, Empress
of Solanum
melongena, parmigiana
is a revelation, as is
moussaka
and baba ghanoush, forgive us
our emojis, our spongy
indelicacies, Lady
of the Aubergine,
teach us how to be
(in secret)
a berry, hiding our own bitter
seeds, plant us with
eggs and all their abundant
metaphors: cycle, genesis,
shell, Lady of Nightshade, immune us
to bruising, and if not,
let us bruise
beautiful, that all may witness
our skin, your skin
