In every throat, an apple
to be pared. The knives
of our tongues are still
not enough for this act
of love making. Before
the work is done, the
sculpture is already
waiting to be sold. As
with the bark of trees
we mark that we love
with something that
can’t grow back. Every
room is a cage of sky
locked away from roam,
every passing minute a
step further into the pool
of each other’s bodies.
The light can barely stream
in, the curtains a dam
against the world. How
a single piece of cloth
can have so much power,
how the most powerful
thing we can do is to be
completely vulnerable.
If I extricate the fruit
of your voice, will you
plant another? I slice
the saccharine into
pieces, I bury them
in my limbs. I go to
bed with your image
growing, growing,
growing, branching
through my veins,
spreading in the soil
of my brain, waiting
for this space of mine
to be filled with you.

Freewriting Explanation: Every day, Valen shall use 5 minutes to write completely unprompted and uninterrupted, letting the words lead the way. There is no end purpose to each piece, but rather, the pieces are allowed to develop naturally in their own way. The pieces are then uploaded without edits.