Founded in the fall of 1991, Laurel Moon is Brandeis' oldest, national literary publication. Each issue we publish features original work from undergraduate students.
Hair like candy floss, cheeks like little apples, round and taut and
yours for the picking. Mollify me with this menu of metaphors you’re too lazy to
realize aren’t compliments but rather announcements of your intentions
to dine well and without worry for whether I want to be the main course.
Consider that I don’t like being called a peach, a slice, a snack,
maybe I don’t want to be picked, to be carved into
and consumed like the ice cream cone you get
every time you win your junior varsity soccer game. Maybe, instead,
I want to devour someone, too.
Maybe I want to be the one to break the fruit,
to feel the syrup dribble down my own arms. Maybe I
want to be the one to suck the drippings off my fingers and lick
my lips – Christ, they’re just lips, they’re not
cherry red, they’re not plum, they’re not
some feast-for-the-eyes appetizer – without concern
for if you feel like a piece of meat.
Yours for the picking,
I scoff.
Consider that maybe I want to gorge myself, eat you
to your core and toss the scraps out my window
as I sail along the freeway, going, going,
gone. Maybe I want to lick the plate
clean, maybe I want to lean back afterwards and pick
the fat out from under my nails. Eve only
took a bite, but I’m telling you I want
to shake the whole damn tree.
I’m telling you that maybe,
just maybe,
I want to devour someone, too.
Courtney Garvey is a senior at Brandeis University studying Creative Writing, History, and European Cultural Studies. Her work has previously been published in Peach Magazine.