The Proper Way to Eat an Apology
Sarah Hanson
The proper way to eat an apology
spat out by a man who choked
on the words is with both hands
outstretched; greedily press crumbs
to mouth, suck the marrow, try to make
meaning from his lint and dust.
The proper way to drink derision is one
drop at a time, burning the edges
of cracked lips, its sea salt a false
promise amid the scorched absence
of freshwater. I have made bad decisions,
but just because I’m subsisting
on scraps doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten
the feel of feast on my tongue. Somewhere,
there is a house of milk and honey,
the soothing sacrament for the lost
and hungry. I imagine the buttery
taste of safety as I press my fingers,
dusted with his unseasoned temper
to my mouth, desperate to fill myself.
Sarah Hanson is an emerging poet with an MA from the University of Chicago. Her work has been featured in Wild Greens, Prosectrics, and The Midnight Fawn Review. She is a contributing editor of Shaking Off the Ashes. The Minnesota native lives in Minneapolis with her husband and three cats.