TWO POEMS by Andrew Davis


I stole some fruit
that wasn’t mine to take.
Nobody actually knows
what fruit it was,
but let’s say it was an apple
so we have a picture for our scene.

I stole it because,
yet to taste knowledge,
I didn’t know any better.
It was bitter, not yet ripe.
The skin stuck
between the spaces in my teeth.

Voices shouted inside me,
screamed rebellion
against my God, my husband.
Knowledge is dangerous.
Not to those who learn,
but to those who hoard its fruits.


Happiness doesn’t always come easily
But sometimes, I’ll steal its clothes
Try them on for size
Wonder why they don’t quite fit

Andrew Davis is a writer based in Cardiff. He writes a mix of prose and poetry, which has been published in anthologies and online journals by independent publishers including Black Pear Press, Fictive Dream and Abergavenny Small Press.


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