Friday, July 17, 2009
papaya
when I saw you
laid open to the air
I never asked
who had cut you
or with what instrument
I knew
that you were ready
to let go those glowing
dark seeds
out of your belly
gently, with caution
and when I saw you stranded
on the sand
sweet abalone mouth
away from water
I didn't ask
how your scent
would melt into my fingertips
or how the sound of palm trees
would sigh inside
my breath
laid open to the air
I never asked
who had cut you
or with what instrument
I knew
that you were ready
to let go those glowing
dark seeds
out of your belly
gently, with caution
and when I saw you stranded
on the sand
sweet abalone mouth
away from water
I didn't ask
how your scent
would melt into my fingertips
or how the sound of palm trees
would sigh inside
my breath