she is handmaiden—
emissary
of the deep river self

bright spinning eyes,
blood
in her mouth

her trigger finger
points down the path
of moonlight and shards

she says
reach for the apple
you yearn for

or she says, let it go—
your fated fruit hangs
here on my wrist

try to ignore
her song, erase the lines
on your palm

do you really believe
refusing her
     is an option?