The Witching Hour

pie | day 21 | freewrite

thin skin,
peeled back slowly,
delicately,
tossed aside in strips
revealing what's underneath

cleaved in two,
then fourths,
then eighths,
knife slick,
the air is sickly sweet

dice another,
three,
then four,
stripped skinless,
raw, soft, ready to bake

into the tin,
spread evenly between dough,
and cover every corner
every revealing
edge of truth

bake for an hour or so
while disposing the excess
don't worry if the pie seems
a little bit strange
i threw in some apple for flavor