Nectar – Christopher Wilson

I once ate a fruit
I didn’t know the name of.
I’ve since forgotten the taste,
or maybe just the language
to describe it. I do remember
the texture. How it pried open
at the bottom, split open with seed,
split open with ocean, split open,
spilt ocean, salt, wet, full of grain
and who knows what else. Tell me,
tell me how to do the most basic
things in life. How to speak.
How to eat. How to sleep.
How to dream. How to nightmare.
I want one day to encounter
more food that leaves me uncertain.
I want to feel new. I want to feel
split open. I want to remember
something that hasn’t happened yet.

Christopher WilsonCP Wilson lives in Blacksburg, VA. He received an MFA in poetry from Virginia Tech, where he currently teaches Rhetoric and Composition.