THE  27Th  EDITIOn

Lychee  Jelly
by Abigail Selby

I can never find the word 

                            that congeals soft under my tongue, 

In this dead hour        and stucco down my throat. 

             each slice of sunshine I feast on—before my heart steals   away, 

             your skull—full of candied fruits, 

            drunk on the sunlight you’ve eaten tenfold, never allow me the taste. 

And before the stars go out,    before the night shies & scurries away 

my teeth will savor every crevice that bites 

the roof of my mouth,            and with it 

I’ll taste the morning sun I’ve devoured whole, too. 

                                                    strange fruit.