The Breast That Protects Her Heart

I close my eyes and wish it into fruit,
a kind of large nectarine
that she proffers, smirking. This brute
is shamed by what's revealed: her scheme,

a kind of poisoned nectarine
that I am urged to slurp publicly at.
I'm shamed by what's revealed; she schemes,
this wicked, naked cat.

That I am urged to slurp publicly at
her young-buck-magazine teat -
this wicked, naked cat -
it pumps me full of hate.

Her young, buck-naked teat,
mocking, against my coarse black snout,
it pumps me full of hate
and doubt.

Mocking me, my coarse black snout,
she proffers, smirking. This brute
will bite, no doubt.
I close my eyes and wish it into fruit.